but that's how we like it, and that's all we want

[atthemercyof]

[ He wakes up, and he's not where he should be. Gone is Charles Xavier's bedroom, the warm press of a body beside him, and in it's place is - well, Erik thinks it's a library. He pushes himself up off the mattress on the floor, black wood shelves looming into view. He doesn't know what's happening, only that he feels a little outside it all. Nobody could have moved him in his sleep, and if they wanted to, they wouldn't leave him somewhere like this.

He turns around to glance at the room twice, moves a little closer to the shelves to draw his fingers across the spines, not plucking them free just yet. There's a sound, somewhere outside the room, and he abandons the examination in favour of opening the door, taking the hall at a quick, but not frantic pace. He's curious, which is bizzare in and of itself.

Though he doesn't look into any of the rooms he's passing, it does feel like there's life in here, wherever here is. He hears the noise again, traces it through. ]

Comments

[atthemercyof]

[ A long time ago and Erik would have shied away immediately, would have said no, simply because any stray thought could have killed him, brought damage with it. He wouldn't have wanted to see what it did to Charles, because if he is right, if there are similarities, it would have cracked something.

Now Erik is more agreeable to change, to dealing. He may not like it, but Charles is offering this and he can see why, can understand the reasons, and he wants to heal Charles as much as himself. So after a moment of silence, Erik lets the breath he was holding go. ] All right.

[oldcardigans]

[ Worriedly peering at him, searching for signs that he might change his mind and finding none, Charles sighs mostly at himself, fingers picking the book open.

The first is pain. Thankfully, Charles is strong enough now not to let it convey to Erik, but the echo of it is there, sheer bloody things sharpened to deadly points, howls of the soon to be dead jabbing into his head with laser precision, and why wouldn't it, because he's right there, Father's light slowly snuffing out on the bed adjacent to Charles' uncomfortable chair. He could hardly forget the way he spilled onto the floor, not even able to smell the antiseptic for the screams, hands fisted in his hair and he can't see Father's body from down here, not when there are nurses surrounding the writhing boy with their voices and bodies.

Long before his throat gets a chance to go raw, there's a slight prick and he's under, weighed down to the bottom of the sea for eons or minutes, he could never tell. Every time he woke up in that horrid place presumably to answer their confusing questions, but he hears them all again, their pity, poor little boy he's lost his dad and can't handle the mourning, poor little boy he'll never be the same.

He hates hospitals. Hospitals killed his father and took away his legs. Charles knows there's more in the memory to come, but he can't face it, turning away to pillow his cheek on Erik's shoulder, eyes squeezed shut at what's coming. ]

[atthemercyof]

[ He knows the story, but to witness it is a different thing entirely, to watch Charles' power consume him and the agony it brings. He's lost a parent, and his mutation is a scary, agonizing thing, and Erik knows what that feels like, how it never leaves, sits like a torch in somebody's chest.

When Charles turns away from it, Erik wants to close the book to protect him. But he doesn't, because it's important for him to see it, or why would they try. All he does is tighten his grip, fingers curling in the fabric of his sleeve to keep him anchored. ]

[oldcardigans]

[ Charles mumbles something soft, fingers finding Erik's side and winding into the fabric there.

All he does is cause accidents. Hazy with the effects of sedation wearing him down, he doesn't know that he's doing it, exerting his influence across the hospital in his despair. Later, the stories come to him: orderlies found crouched in stairwells with their memories missing, nurses with their identities confused and going back to their families at the end of the day in the wrong body. All the while Charles sits in his bed, feeling like his head is swollen, a festering wound, slowly coming to the horrifying realization that he's listening to the hospital's sick and dying, spending the waking hours that he can handle turned into his tear soaked pillow, thoughts thick on painkillers and the gaping hole in his life where his father should be.

Learning to control it comes slowly, fraught with pain and bloody noses, so much blood that the doctors were baffled every visit that followed Mum casting off her mourning clothing and forced to pull him from school, collapsed from so many minds trying to speak to him, shouting.

She didn't deserve his inexperience, his hacking away at her mind. She didn't deserve the shock of losing Father, either, but Charles should have known better than to think that when he got better at blocking people out, that didn't mean he could use his ability for good deeds. His attempt at making the loss better ended up destroying her in the end, and what Charles never did for Erik was finish the story. He didn't just fail at reconstructing her memory around her husband: he didn't wire everything back correctly.

Another change of scene, this time Charles is older with little Raven, dear sweet Raven standing behind a young telepath on his way to puberty and already losing his other parent, this time to the mad house. It was their stepfather's decision, Mum having elected to remarry while some of her original personality still existed, and he was inoffensive enough but he was never Charles' father. And now Mum's mind had disintegrated that last bit and left her son a cold household and an inheritance for when he turned eighteen to go along with his guilty heart.

The memories fading out, there's a grave silence until Charles speaks, voice hoarse with unshed tears. ] I... I'd never change someone's mind until the most dire circumstances. Moira. I understand that now that I have the power and finesse to. I could never change the wills of the people I disagree with over mutants and humans, over war, anything, I just keep remembering.

[atthemercyof]

[ He hadn't realised. All this time spent getting Charles to do what he wants with his power, to use it and harness it, and all this while there's been scars running beneath it all.

He shifts, presses his lips to his temple. ] You couldn't have known how it would end.

[oldcardigans]

[ Waiting a beat before answering. ] I know that now. Sometimes I'm almost glad there's no way for me to train like the rest of you, though. And a the same time, relieved that this kind of power didn't fall into the lap of someone who would use it to make himself a god amongst ants.

[ Pulling himself together, he abruptly stands and stalks back to the ladder, happy for the weight to be off his chest for now. ] It's a heavy price but I prefer it this way in the grand scheme.

[atthemercyof]

[ He watches him quietly, letting this new information process through his own thoughts. He's been unkind to Charles, forcing him to do things he shouldn't have to. ]

You're responsible, you can guarantee others wouldn't be.

[oldcardigans]

Without serious misgivings, something holding one back, yes. I made sure I never made the same mistake. The memories I've had to reconstruct since haven't got a brick out of place, and no one but another powerful telepath could find out the places I've cut and stitched.

[ Resting on the rungs for a moment, Charles frowns at the shelves, disliking how carefully disaffected he's come to sound about his own power when Erik was just marveling at it. It may be a projection of Erik's consciousness, but he can read the emotion all the same, the restrained quiet emanating from him from the second the book closed.

Stepping down without a new selection, concern carves out hard lines in his face, approaching his friend again. ] Are you all right?

[atthemercyof]

Yes, of course. [ He angles his face towards Charles again, expression clear, he's concerned, of course he is, but he doesn't regret seeing into that part of Charles' past. ] I'm sorry, for when I've pushed you in the past, if I'd have known how it had affected you, I would never have.

[oldcardigans]

I've already forgiven you, Erik. [ There's no way he could have known, either. Hindsight is a menace to their lives, trying to be together, but he can no more hold Erik accountable than he could believe Erik meant malice when he pushed Charles. ] And before you think I'm feeling too sorry for myself, I would not give up my abilities for anything. It wouldn't bring my parents back. I'd have never met you.

[atthemercyof]

Maybe in the next life. I think I'd have drown and become some sort of sea creature.

[ He stops frowning though, going mild and thoughtful while he watches him. They've both been created from grief, it'd be hard to ignore it. ]

[oldcardigans]

[ There's an unhappy bend of his lips at that thought, Charles staring at his feet for a second. Erik and dying are two concepts that don't belong in the same space.

Still, Erik is already half way toward being a shark, all sharp teeth and never ceasing forward motion. Humming, a soft, amused sort of noise, he decides to play along. ] And if I'm a land creature?

[atthemercyof]

You could belong to a deep-sea diver you simply couldn't be parted from.

[ Quirking a lip, holding out his hand. ] But we're both neither, so we can be thankful for that, mm?

ububububu you two stop it with your cuteness

[oldcardigans]

[ Charles does smile at that, pulling his hand out of his pocket to place it in Erik's. ] Very fortunate. Being the same species does help considerably.

they can't, it's a mutation, a very groovy mutation

[atthemercyof]

[ Squeezing his hand firmly. ] Thank you for showing me, I know it must have been hard.

Charles, tell us about this groovy mutation sometime ;_;

[oldcardigans]

[ Charles shakes his head slightly, gaze so focused on this extraordinary man in front of him. ] You did all the work. You make me feel safe to show these things.

yes, Charles, YES.

[atthemercyof]

[ Rising to his feet then, smiling at Charles. ] I'm glad, you know I'll protect whatever I see here.

TALK SCIENCE TO ME

[oldcardigans]

[ Agreeably. ] They couldn't beat it out of you. [ Smiling up at him. ] Do you want to save some of these for later? We can always come back another day; you'd need weeks to get through all of the things my sister and I got up to.

/weeps with joy

[atthemercyof]

I can come back? [ And that hadn't occurred to him, assumed that this was a one off deal, a mistake they didn't know about. Being able to return would be exceptional. ]

[oldcardigans]

[ Amiable, if arrogant. ] Surely you didn't think I could upturn my head, letting my whole life fall out and you'd be able to pick through it in one day?

[ A resounding yes, if Erik will extend his hand and take it. ]

[atthemercyof]

No, but I thought perhaps this was a one off, I'm still not sure how it happened.

[ But his enthusiasm to return lights upon his face. ] Of course, I'll want to, most definitely.

[oldcardigans]

Not that I've had many opportunities to draw others in, but I do know how.

[ But Charles cheers considerably when he accepts, so yes, they have time enough to delve into his past, finding this new way to give himself over to Erik. ] I'm glad you find this interesting enough to want more, but it does give me the chance to prove it's not all wool up here. [ Tapping his temple, grin going boyish ]

[atthemercyof]

I never thought it was, dear. [ A teasing smile. ] Don't be so hard on yourself.

[oldcardigans]

I always have something to prove. [ Raising up on his tip toes to kiss his cheek, he gives a little tug at Erik's hand, a smile playing at the edges of his mouth. ] Want to move along, love? There were a few things I wanted to show you, if you're not complete terrified of me yet.

[atthemercyof]

Never.

[ But he lets himself be led again, openly curious. ] Where to next?