Work Text:
I Tried
'We were supposed to protect them!' Eric screamed as Charles tried to escape him, pushing desperately down the narrow corridor until he regained his legs and turned tail.
Eric stared after him in stunned silence.
'Wow. So you've always been a dick,' he heard behind him, their time-travelling guest making himself known. Erik however, was slightly thrown. He hadn't expected Charles to look quite so...broken wasn't the term for it, but he seemed afraid of him and that was unsettling to Erik.
He made to go after Charles when Logan finally left his seat and blocked his path. 'Not yet, bub. Give him a bit.' And, disquieted as he was by Charles’ reaction, he listened to the man.
---
Erik looked up, mildly startled that Charles had seen fit to visit him in his hotel room. The other mutant had successfully avoided him for the remainder of their trip, but he gave no indication of this as he shut the door behind himself, the lock catching with a quiet ‘click’.
'I tried you know.'
Erik raised a brow in question.
'To protect them,’ he clarified. ‘I tried. I failed.'
'Charles, I-'
'I tried to do things the right way,’ Charles walked towards the window and looked into the distance, ‘Petitioned that students and teachers at a school for the 'gifted' needed to be protected from war the same way medical students are.
'My petition was rejected. They would be drafted.
'I decided to go to the city. Make my plea in person.' He noticed the expression on Erik's face. It was questioning, yet also betrayed that he thought Charles foolish. It wasn't difficult for Charles to guess the direction of the other man's thoughts.
'I didn't want to use my powers on a government official,' he said, answering the unasked question. 'I was trying to teach the students about the moral issues of our powers. I didn't want them to believe I thought it was acceptable to use my gifts to override the free will of others whenever I felt. I didn't want them to think I would ever do that to any of them...to lose their trust, tentative as it was.
'Gifts like mine...there are more implications behind their use,’ Charles’ voice turned soft. ‘Every time I use them I take something away from someone else. Their privacy, their autonomy, their memory. It isn't pleasant and it isn't right.'
'There is nothing wrong with your gifts Charles!' His voice was lent volume with his vehemence and Erik saw a brief flash of shock fly across Charles’ face before it settled into the practiced calm that he wore so often.
Charles’ hair fell into his face as he tilted his head to the side, patient condescension written into his features. 'Then why did you keep the helmet?'
It was Erik’s turn to be startled into shock and he felt his mouth open and close several times before he managed to force himself into halting speech. 'That wasn't...that isn't-'
'You didn't trust me with my powers around you.'
'Charles-'
'I understand. It's natural. It's also why I have to hold myself to a very strict set of moral guidelines. Why I need to trust in others.'
The confusion must have shown on his face because Charles seemingly felt compelled to expand on his previous statement.
'How can I expect someone to trust me if I don't trust them? If I act in a distrustful, suspicious manner people generally 'put their guard up' so to speak, thinking that such a nature is more a reflection of myself and that I know I am not worthy of their trust.'
'That's ludicrous.'
'That's human nature.'
‘Like alcoholism.’
Charles openly glared at Erik and returned to looking out the window.
‘You can’t deny it,’ Erik pressed.
‘You don’t understand.’
‘Then explain.’
‘I don’t owe you-'
‘Isn’t that why you’re here?’
Charles’ brow furrowed as an ugly look crossed his face. When he spoke, his voice was harsh.
‘I can’t use my legs and I can’t feel them. Using them- having that connection forcibly reforged, hurts. When I’m sober it hurts more.’
Erik sighed and rubbed at is eyes. The guilt weighed heavily on him, but he pushed it to the side. He felt tired, yet his anger was coming to the fore.
'Charles,’ he began, returning to their previous topic, ‘all of this boils down to you deciding to trade away your gifts for your legs. You took mundanity over the gifts that would have been able to save your students! You chose the comfort of strangers over the safety of your charges!'
'I tried!'
'No, you didn't! You sent off papers and reports! You tried to 'reason' with people who would gladly see you dead if they knew what you were!'
'I went to the city-'
'And your flowery words and your professorship got you nothing!'
Charles went quiet and Erik suddenly realized that he had moved forwards against him, backing Charles up like he had on the plane. He was towering over his once-friend and the other man was trembling faintly. Erik took an abrupt step back, giving the other man more room.
'Charles, what-' he was cut off by the other man turning sharply and walking away.
'Charles!' Erik reached out and grabbed the shorter mutants arm, unprepared for the fist that came flying at his face.
'Damn it Charles!' He yelled, holding his hands around his nose and jerking them harshly to fix the break he felt there.
Charles meanwhile stood panting slightly before shaking his head with an air of disappointment and disbelief.
'I don't know why I tried.' The words were said quietly, and Erik first thought that Charles was speaking to himself, but then Charles looked up at him and continued.
'I don't know why I tried to talk to you. I owe you nothing.' He turned to leave again and Erik felt a wave of panic rush through him, sweeping his anger away in its wake. They couldn't leave things like this. He couldn't bear the way Charles looked at him now.
'Please.'
Charles paused and looked over his shoulder to find that Erik’s rage had been replaced by desperation.
'Please Charles. I-I want to hear what you have to say. I don't like what we are now. I want to understand.'
Charles took a deep breath and walked back into the room. He didn't go to stand by his old friend, but instead retook his post by the window, looking out at the city and trying to collect himself.
There was a long moment of silence and Erik went to take a seat facing Charles. He was impatient for answers, but unwilling to rush things and drive Charles from the room again.
Charles took a deep breath, and though he opened his mouth to speak, his eyes remained locked on what lay beyond the window.
'I was unprepared when I came to the city, ‘he began. ‘I was somewhat emotional about the children and my teachers being taken into this war, still dealing with the fallout of Cuba...and I had grown used to life at the school. The same few minds, all the others... far away.'
Erik momentarily wondered just what Charles' range was, but the other man had continued speaking.
'To be in the constant onslaught of minds that is the city...it's exhausting Erik. I don't think you really know how much. So many minds, thoughts, emotions...people feel so strongly. It was too much for me at the time and I raised all of my shields, desperate for peace, desperate for quiet.' Charles went silent for a moment and looked down. 'I was foolish. I raised every shield I had, all of my energy went into them. I wasn't doing what I normally do in a crowd.'
Erik tilted his head slightly in question. He must have made some small sound, because Charles answered as though he had voiced his question.
'Scanning surface thoughts and emotions.' Charles’ eyes went cold and dark. 'You should always be aware of your surroundings.'
There was another lull in Charles' monologue, but Erik was still hesitant to force the conversation to proceed. Charles appeared to be gathering himself and Erik feared a reminder of his presence might stall the conversation indefinitely. Yet Charles began to speak again soon enough.
'The funny thing is it wasn't even related to my being a mutant. He didn't know what I was. I wasn't targeted for that.'
Erik's worries spiked at the word 'targeted'.
'I imagine he heard me speaking with Hank about trying to keep the students out of the war- 'police action', whatever they're calling it.’ He waved a hand carelessly, yet his form was pure tension. ‘He followed me then I suppose, when I left the government offices. I had asked for some solitude and sent Hank off for the car. And this man... well, he didn't much care for someone trying to dishonour his country. Later when I-' he raised his hand to his temple and twitched his fingers, accidentally triggering a memory for Erik of the two of them at the mansion...his mother, rage, serenity...but Charles was speaking again.
'I found out he had a brother that he had only just learned died in the war. He had wanted to go with him, to protect him. He had flat feet. So he stayed and his brother left and died. The idea that people were trying to abandon his brother was...intolerable to him.' Charles turned back to fully face the window. 'And I go by talking about getting a group of able-bodied men out of the war.
'I was alone, I was foreign, and I was vulnerable. He got a hold of the back of my chair and pulled me into an alley. I was shocked. Tried to reason with him. Give him my wallet.
'He pulled me out of my chair and threw me to the ground. I reached for my powers to stop him, but it was too much. So many people, so many minds.' His voice was a whisper. 'People feel so strongly.
'His rage and grief hit me in a wave. It opened the gate and I lost hold of my shields. Every mind, of every person within two hundred and fifty miles of me in every direction all flooded into me. Their thoughts, their worries, their feelings. I couldn't find myself. I could feel my body, but I couldn't reach it. There were too many minds in the way.
'He beat me. Punching and kicking and...so many minds.’ Charles raised a hand to his head in an unconscious protective gesture, like he was trying to place a physical shield over his mind, before running his hand through his hair in a soothing motion and dropping in to the window sill where it clenched into a fist.
'Then he started to tear at my clothes. 'English fag. Of course you want out of the war.' My trousers were gone. He...vented his frustrations on me.'
Erik was pale.
'And I couldn't... I couldn't reach him. I was helpless.' His eyes went hard and he glared at Erik. 'My damn 'powers' kept me pinned to the ground. The torrent of minds was endless and I was drowning under them. I could feel everything, but I couldn't...I couldn't-Augh!' He spun on his heel, hands gripping painfully at his own hair, and began pacing agitatedly.
'The beating I could have dealt with but-'
Erik couldn't help the sound he made. He'd been trying so hard to be quiet, to let Charles speak uninterrupted, but it was all too much.
The smile Charles shot at him felt like a bullet.
'It might not measure up to yours Erik, but my childhood was hardly idyllic.' And he left it at that to continue pacing, hands twisted into fists, as though he hadn't just implied that he'd been abused as a child.
'Charles, I didn't-'
'I'm not done Erik.' The voice brooked no argument. Erik's mouth snapped shut and Charles continued.
'I couldn't do anything. Not even run away.'
And Erik had never felt so small.
'I couldn't even make a sound. My 'gifts' kept me paralyzed on the ground for him, and when he was finished with me, I felt him. I felt him the whole time. And when he was done, he...he was shocked at himself. He was coming back to himself I suppose. He backed away from me as though he feared I would launch myself at him and then he turned and ran from the alley. And I...without his mind so close it was easier to come back to myself but...well, I was in a state of shock, quite naturally.'
Mein Gott, thought Erik, how can he talk about it like this?
'I was in shock, my powers were still crippling me but I still, I-damn it!' His steps were furious, and he moved with sharpness as he turned around. He moved like he was trapped. The pacing continued and Erik stood to grab hold of his shoulders, force him to stop, to look at him, to get out of his head and not be there anymore. But the movement caught Charles' eye, and before he could approach him Charles rounded on him, pain and fury in every aspect of his features.
'Damn you!'
'Charles?' He said quietly, hands tentatively coming up to reach for his friend, desperately needing to give comfort, but Charles whirled away from him, putting distance between them again.
'Damn you Erik. You- I-' He stopped and took a breath to steady himself. 'I was lying in an alley. Beaten and- and-,’he cut himself off with a sharp shake of his head before starting again, ‘My mind was all but broken, and when my mind started to become...mine again I- I...damn you!'
‘You what Charles?’ Eric whispered.
Charles' eyes were wet and his voice was hoarse. 'I tried to find you!'
Erik was stunned. 'What?'
'I tried to find you. I-I didn't know what to do, where to turn. I needed someone. Someone to be there. I-' he dropped his head. 'I needed someone who made me feel safe and for some god-forsaken reason my mind tried to find you. And you weren't there!'
Erik broke. He gathered Charles into his arms and though he tried to fight him, Erik held on. He kept Charles pressed into his chest and shamelessly cried into his hair.
'I'm sorry,' he said, voice thick with tears. 'I'm so, so sorry.'
And Charles was crying too. Silent now, after all of his talking. The pair held onto each other as though their grip on each other was the only thing keeping them tied to the earth.
They both knew that there were more discussions that needed to be had. About Charles' youth and Erik's. Their time traveller. Cuba. But those discussions could wait. Right now they could hold on to each other, if only for this moment.