ficlet february 14: a long drive
idk exactly what this is. It's not what either cygnaut or mcwonthelottery told me to write. I just had an image in my head of post-DoFP Charles and Erik stuck in a car together, trying desperately not to think about the last time they were stuck in a car together. So....that's what this is, and not much else.
***
Ficlet February 14: "a long drive"
Charles stares out at the road in front of him, the seemingly endless stretch of pavement, the nondescript scenery. When he closes his eyes, it's 1962 again, and he's not sure if he wants to keep them closed or never close them again.
"We should have flown," he says quietly. It's not the first time he's said it.
"Too high profile," Erik says.
It's the first time Erik's answered, though.
So Erik's speaking to him again. Charles knows that means he should start a conversation, or at least shout some more, but he's tired. It's hard being the person he has to be around Erik these days. It's hard being sharp and careful and alert. He wonders if this is how Erik feels all the time. He wonders how Erik hasn't dropped dead from the strain years ago.
"We can't risk taking your jet," Erik continues. Maybe the silence is getting to him. "We couldn't just book tickets on a commercial airline."
Charles wants to ask 'why not,' more out of a need to challenge Erik than a real question. He knows why that would have been a bad idea. Even using aliases, even flying separately, Charles, at the very least, is quite memorable. It's always a hassle doing anything in public with the wheelchair.
They're quiet again for another ten miles. Twenty. Charles closes his eyes and then snaps them open when the familiar rhythm of the road and lingering presence of Erik's mind bring him back to their first cross-country trip together.
That's the last thing he needs right now.
"This was a courtesy," Erik says. Charles glances at him out of the corner of his eye. Erik's knuckles are white around the steering wheel and he's more focused on the road than he needs to be. "I didn't have to tell you. I didn't have to bring you. I could have left you alone in that big empty house to figure this all out for yourself."
Erik is trying to be cruel, Charles knows, but the words don't have the bite he intends. It sounds almost like he's trying to convince himself instead, that he's trying to tell himself he could have left Charles alone. Like deep down inside, he doesn't believe it.
"I would have, eventually," Charles lies.
Another ten miles. Charles resists the urge to steal into Erik's mind. He resists the urge to close his eyes. He resists the urge to think at all about the last time they were in a car together, alone, driving from town to town, happy and excited and in love.
The truth is, Charles doesn't know that he would have figured it out eventually. He woke to an empty house--no students, no other staff. He's proud of himself for not panicking, but he knows he would have panicked eventually if Erik hadn't barged in two hours later, himself in the same predicament, but with a better idea of what was going on and how the mutant with the power to hypnotize other mutants managed the mass abduction.
He'd be alone and desperate without Erik, and even if Erik knows it, Charles can never admit that out loud. He's through with giving Erik any power over him. He's through with showing Erik any weakness.
"You don't--" Erik starts to say, and then closes his mouth so quickly his teeth click together. Charles wishes he could get out of the car, could put more than these scant eighteen inches between them. He says nothing. He stares straight ahead.
"We're on the same side here, Charles," Erik finally says after another drawn out moment of silence, though he doesn't look away from the road.
"The last time you promised me that, you tried to murder my sister and dropped a bloody baseball stadium on top of me, so excuse me if I can't bring myself to believe you," Charles says.
More silence. If possible, Erik's grip on the steering wheel tightens.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," he says.
"You never do," Charles says.
They're halfway through Ohio. Their target is in Washington state.
It's going to be a long drive.
*
ficlet february!
Get some sleep
Five minutes away
Faint recognition
Half an hour before sunrise
Useless, but beautiful
Something’s broken
Surprise celebration
There were signs and signals
Rituals
Write about a postcard
What are you looking for?
You remind me of someone
A meeting, a beginning
Lasting impression
Long drive
Behind closed doors
Ask questions later
Six impossible things
Day off
Lost in a city
A door key
A late night phone call
Someone else’s mortification
Something from music
Something from a picture
***
Ficlet February 14: "a long drive"
Charles stares out at the road in front of him, the seemingly endless stretch of pavement, the nondescript scenery. When he closes his eyes, it's 1962 again, and he's not sure if he wants to keep them closed or never close them again.
"We should have flown," he says quietly. It's not the first time he's said it.
"Too high profile," Erik says.
It's the first time Erik's answered, though.
So Erik's speaking to him again. Charles knows that means he should start a conversation, or at least shout some more, but he's tired. It's hard being the person he has to be around Erik these days. It's hard being sharp and careful and alert. He wonders if this is how Erik feels all the time. He wonders how Erik hasn't dropped dead from the strain years ago.
"We can't risk taking your jet," Erik continues. Maybe the silence is getting to him. "We couldn't just book tickets on a commercial airline."
Charles wants to ask 'why not,' more out of a need to challenge Erik than a real question. He knows why that would have been a bad idea. Even using aliases, even flying separately, Charles, at the very least, is quite memorable. It's always a hassle doing anything in public with the wheelchair.
They're quiet again for another ten miles. Twenty. Charles closes his eyes and then snaps them open when the familiar rhythm of the road and lingering presence of Erik's mind bring him back to their first cross-country trip together.
That's the last thing he needs right now.
"This was a courtesy," Erik says. Charles glances at him out of the corner of his eye. Erik's knuckles are white around the steering wheel and he's more focused on the road than he needs to be. "I didn't have to tell you. I didn't have to bring you. I could have left you alone in that big empty house to figure this all out for yourself."
Erik is trying to be cruel, Charles knows, but the words don't have the bite he intends. It sounds almost like he's trying to convince himself instead, that he's trying to tell himself he could have left Charles alone. Like deep down inside, he doesn't believe it.
"I would have, eventually," Charles lies.
Another ten miles. Charles resists the urge to steal into Erik's mind. He resists the urge to close his eyes. He resists the urge to think at all about the last time they were in a car together, alone, driving from town to town, happy and excited and in love.
The truth is, Charles doesn't know that he would have figured it out eventually. He woke to an empty house--no students, no other staff. He's proud of himself for not panicking, but he knows he would have panicked eventually if Erik hadn't barged in two hours later, himself in the same predicament, but with a better idea of what was going on and how the mutant with the power to hypnotize other mutants managed the mass abduction.
He'd be alone and desperate without Erik, and even if Erik knows it, Charles can never admit that out loud. He's through with giving Erik any power over him. He's through with showing Erik any weakness.
"You don't--" Erik starts to say, and then closes his mouth so quickly his teeth click together. Charles wishes he could get out of the car, could put more than these scant eighteen inches between them. He says nothing. He stares straight ahead.
"We're on the same side here, Charles," Erik finally says after another drawn out moment of silence, though he doesn't look away from the road.
"The last time you promised me that, you tried to murder my sister and dropped a bloody baseball stadium on top of me, so excuse me if I can't bring myself to believe you," Charles says.
More silence. If possible, Erik's grip on the steering wheel tightens.
"I didn't mean to hurt you," he says.
"You never do," Charles says.
They're halfway through Ohio. Their target is in Washington state.
It's going to be a long drive.
*
ficlet february!
Get some sleep
Five minutes away
Faint recognition
Half an hour before sunrise
Useless, but beautiful
Something’s broken
Surprise celebration
There were signs and signals
Rituals
Write about a postcard
What are you looking for?
You remind me of someone
A meeting, a beginning
Lasting impression
Long drive
Behind closed doors
Ask questions later
Six impossible things
Day off
Lost in a city
A door key
A late night phone call
Someone else’s mortification
Something from music
Something from a picture