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

[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.

[oldcardigans]

Then you know my mind. [ He nods uselessly anyway, the confirmation giving him what small ease it will while he struggles through his insides to come up with anything compelling enough to keep Erik here.

What strength he finds is used to pull his thoughts fully out of Erik's, left floating in terrible emptiness. Holding on is driving him on faster, so Charles' grip is slackened with little flair or display, so that they can both imagine that choices were made that they were at peace with. Charles would laugh if he wouldn't fall to pieces first. ]

[atthemercyof]

[ It hurts, he didn't expect the pain or the horrifying, crashing loneliness with Charles out of his mind, how empty and dark his thoughts are without the other man trickling away at the back, smoothing over the scars. Erik's expression remains careful, locking away how quickly his stomach turns, how much he doesn't want this. But it's too late, and he's a wonderful liar, will pretend it is for the best to hide them away from the howling wind.

He twists his hand, uncuffs Charles' bracelet like it's setting him free, turns on his heel without another word to leave the room. ]

[oldcardigans]

[ The bracelet goes limp in Charles' hand, but it spends all of several anguishing seconds splayed between his fingers before he panics and clips the catch back on, sinking into his seat with nothing more than a breathy noise. Fingers buried in his hair, he forgets to say a word or look over his shoulder. ]