let's go to war to make peace,

[atthemercyof]

[ Locked to oldcardigans ]

[ Erik would be something nonchalant if not for the way he stands just beyond the front steps, arms crossed over his chest, gaze slanted at Agent MacTaggert. Her departing pleasantries are more directed at Charles, because Erik very clearly excudes distrust, and even distaste, to any of the Suits. But that doesn't mean his presence is not very much there. The conversation through the night weights itself down at the back of his mind. Too many people are showing an interest now, invasive little questions that get passed off as pleasantries from someone Charles trusts.

Erik sometimes wonders if Charles would just let the government steamroll right on other him. He hopes MacTaggert knows Erik won't allow that as long as he's here.

He tips his head a fraction in acknowledgement of her goodbyes, lifts his gaze skyward slightly, because there's something ticking away in the house tonight, a static kind of unease that crawls under his skin. It's a bit like the dark roll of sky just before a storm as dark eyes follow the movement of the man in front of him. ] Well?

Comments

[atthemercyof]

[ All that affection from earlier has drained, leaving Erik tired and carefully fitting blocks back into his walls, dispassionate with every movement. ]

[oldcardigans]

[ Only halfheartedly listening to the record, much of the fight has gone from him, looking more sad and grossly out of his depth than he's been in a very long time. Several attempts at speech are made before he finds something true, keeping his gaze on the board. ] I won't stop you unless you give me no choice. But I will do anything to protect your life as well. Whatever my morals.

[atthemercyof]

Then I'm sorry. [ Not looking up. ] Loving me appears to cost you dearly.

[oldcardigans]

I can change nothing that you don't want me to, and nothing can make me take you for anything than what you are. Cost is meaningless if that's what it takes. [ The important thing for him is to not give in to the urge to bury his face in his hands, to choke and not give voice to the This isn't going to work that so wants to be heard. ]

[atthemercyof]

Aren't you tired of it? Surely if you let loose the anchor of your affection, you wouldn't be here. You wouldn't be torn between what you want and what is right.

It would be better for you if your heart weren't in it, I know that. [ Maybe Erik should go, because there is no way to stop this, to turn back, and the care they have will become a casualty. He's not sure he can watch another thing he's cared for die.

Once again he's an instrument of destruction. It's not lost on him. ] If I were wise, I shouldn't let you choose. Me or your ideals. They shouldn't even be in question.

[oldcardigans]

[ A short, violent shake of his head. The very thought of it is utterly repellant, barring the impossibility of how he'd ever manage to do it. He'd have to be the walking dead to live without the depth of his compassion driving him, defining his existence, and hopelessly tangled with the bond he has with Erik. Erik would be alone again, and that is unforgivable. ] I can't.

[atthemercyof]

And what if became no longer your choice? [ Erik may give the image of being unfeeling, of a cruel lack of care, but there is a violence of feelign he fights against, drives down to get his words across. ] I could leave you now, I could go tonight. It would hurt, but you would be freed from choosing me or the thing you've cradled all your years. You would be absolved from it.

[oldcardigans]

It doesn't mean we can't - [ When did this evening become a platform for his dismissal? Charles rages against the torrent of alarm and the cold façade Erik has constructed, all his feckless charm and talent for persuasion discarded for pleading, looking anywhere but at him. ] Stop. Don't you dare pretend that you could walk away and say that it's best for me. I don't want to be blameless, I want you.

[atthemercyof]

And I want you alive. [ His words are firecracker sharp, bitten out angrily. ] I want you safe, Charles. You won't be by my side, you won't retain everything that makes you you.

[ Abandoning his drink, his chess pieces, expression careful. ] You love me, I am aware of that, but sometimes love can become a blindfold.

[oldcardigans]

[ Vehemently ignoring him. ] We're stronger together. With or without you, I'm going to be there and the children are going to be there and we're putting an end to this, so I suggest you cease insisting I'll be safer if you go now.

[atthemercyof]

Charles - [ Erik sighs, eyes flickering closed for a moment. ] This will only destroy us.

[oldcardigans]

[ He shakes his head again, throat tight. ] You need it, too.

[atthemercyof]

I refuse to drag you down with me. I know where this path will take me, there's no reason why it should pull you too.

[oldcardigans]

[ A humourless sort of smile works its way across his face, fingertips brushing secretly under his eyelashes as he feels his heart slowly fracture. ] Who's going to protect me from the dastardly CIA?

[atthemercyof]

You have a family that would follow you to the ends of the earth.

[ Staring down at the chessboard. ] You'll be safe with them.

[oldcardigans]

I saved your life. [ Charles doesn't want to be here anymore. ] Shaw will kill you, Erik, then it won't matter.

[atthemercyof]

And you gave me something beautiful, you made me content for the first time, you made me care. If it weren't for that I'd let you do this, if it weren't for the fact that I -. I don't want this. I don't want to lose you.

[oldcardigans]

Then why did you ever let me believe we could - [ Charles is suddenly, irrationally angry, glaring at Erik with such impotent fury that he'd be so cruel as to try to take this out of Charles' hands altogether. ] You don't - you're not supposed to -. You'll die. A few weeks, some pity fucks and a couple sorry words and you march off to your death because my ideals suddenly matter to you? What sort of insane rationale is that?

[atthemercyof]

Because you made me love you. [ Erik's words snap, face shuttering into something distinctly animal, a pipe creaking around the line of the house. ] Because I didn't think I could any more, I didn't think it was in me and you came along and - and fighting with you is killing me, but I can't offer you anything until Shaw is dead, until that spectre is laid to rest, and even then - if it came to a war, I would fight it without a shadow of a doubt, because I won't see my people thrown low again. So what hope do we have, Charles?

[ Jaw clenching. ] You want the world to be peaceful and kind, but I have seen good men batter to death innocent children. I will fight back, I will do everything I can to protect what's mine, and you will hate me for it eventually. And I cannot go on, loving like I do, knowing that soon enough what I believe and am will poison the well.

[oldcardigans]

[ Charles wants to scream, wants to shake Erik for choosing just this time to reveal that and shout at him Do you think I had a choice either? and what he's doing isn't kind or better or clean, but it's making him hate just as vividly as he loves Erik and never wants to see the scales tip to where that bitterness and regret - god, Erik is inviting regret to make its home in them - becomes all he is.

Instead, Charles is very still, searching Erik's expression and mind for the slightest hint that he's being untruthful, but the line is clearly drawn and they are on opposite sides of it. ]

You can't know that. You simply can't. This is - [ Parting his lips with a small, distressed sigh. Any lie will do. ] this is rash, you're not yourself.

[atthemercyof]

[ Erik looks at him before his whole body seems to shudder, pulling at the crumbling bits and drawing back in on itself. Running a shaking hand through his hair, easing it back, Erik then stands. His fingers flex slightly, like he wants to reach out, but won't.

Quietly. ] Look at what I make you, Charles, look at us. All the care and affection in the world and I still push you and wound you. What kind of life is that? Why would anyone want that?

[oldcardigans]

[ For some reason, Charles stands too, arms hanging awkwardly at his sides as though his body is no longer his own, looking across at Erik with a sort of numbness that's difficult to humanize. ] I've never had to work for anything in my life. What is one fight, what's a lifetime of them if I get to keep who matters to me most, know that he's safe and whole. Perhaps I shouldn't have started this at all. I could have suffered and let it eat me from within, but it would have bought your presence and friendship at my side and I wouldn't be losing you now because what love is there to speak of?

You're not protecting anything but your own feelings by leaving. Even now, you play at being made of stone as passion drives you to the madness and death that you could spare yourself of if you let go of your selfishness. [ Shoulders hunching, waiting for Erik to lay the final blow that makes him crumble inward. ] It's much easier than asking me to cut out my heart without at least fashioning me a blade first, my friend.

[atthemercyof]

Don't you see? You are suffering because of me. Because I am infectious, because no matter what I do here, I will choose the opposite path and you won't be able to align yourself to that. I wish I could stop, I wish we could be happy, but I don't see a future where it works, where the world can learn by itself and we are - .

[ Erik takes a breath, wills himself calmer. ] We keep circling around this, and there's blood in that water, liebling. Don't ask me to keep doing that, I can't. You're the one thing I've cared about in a very long time, and I don't want to find out what would happen when I finally break you.

[oldcardigans]

[ Each separate thought snuffs out the hope for resolution a little more, futures with them watching over the children as they help each other through securing rights for their people, warm mornings in bed and friendly bickering over books and politics and maybe the chance to see the crow's feet surrounding Erik's eyes deepen and stretch with age. Many futures dissolve quickly in the time that it takes Charles to fit his fingers wrapped protectively around the bracelet, willing Erik bound to him. His voice is very small, seeking dreadful things instead of comfort. ] Are we enemies?

[atthemercyof]

No. [ It's the first time he's sounded sure of himself all night, voice a fierce, protective whisper. ] No, Charles. You are the dearest friend I have ever had, and nothing will take that away.