There was a firm knock at Charles' door. He glanced at the clock and frowned; it was too late for conversations, especially when taking into consideration that they were leaving to confront Shaw tomorrow. Who is it? he pushed at whomever it might be. Charles was surprised to hear Erik's soft, "It's me."

Charles went to the door and opened it. "Erik, have you forgotten something?"

Erik gave a sharp nod, but suddenly seemed hesitant. Charles watched his friend tuck his hands into the pockets of his trousers and, with the slightest brush of his mind; he sensed that Erik hadn't exactly come out of friendly intentions. Charles thought back to their last conversation that had bordered on an argument, mainly part of the reason Erik had chosen to suddenly retire and leave the room, leaving behind a poignant wreath of churning anger and frustration. The last thing Charles had caught was he'll never understand when the door closed behind Erik with a twist of his fingers in the air.

"Erik?" Charles asked more softly. The metal-bender looked up, his features sculpted into what Charles conceived were anger, and Charles lightly suggested, "Listen, we have to find Shaw tomorrow and we all need our rest. Perhaps we can discuss this in the morning…?"

It was the wrong thing to say, because Erik grunted and pushed past Charles, gliding into the telepath's room uninvited. He made his way, slow in stride, across the room to his chair, where he sat and curled in on himself, pressing fingers into his temple, not unlike Charles usually did. Charles approached him cautiously, feeling the rapidly shifting mood in the other man. He didn't know what to say. When he reached his chair, he couldn't even sit, so he leaned against the side of the backrest and folded his arms. Patience is a virtue, they say.

Charles didn't have to wait long. Erik finally glanced up at him, his expression that between desperation and ire. "There's something we… we need to discuss before we do this tomorrow." The metal-bender was struggling, with great control however, to keep his voice steady. "I spoke with Raven just now. And it occurred to me that…"

Charles watched Erik swallow and steady himself, but Charles had already glimpsed it off his friend's thoughts. He was left with a feeling of certain dread and sickness, and he couldn't stop the humourless laugh that escaped his lips as he shook his head. Charles couldn't help himself; he was in disbelief that Erik would think such a thing.

Erik, however, was angered. The dam holding back the torrent of suppressed rage cracked as he muttered, "I told you to stay out of my head. Can't you respect that?"

"I'm a telepath, Erik. I can't just shut it all off at will!" Charles burst, his skin starting to crawl with annoyance. "It's not my fault that your thoughts are so loud."

Erik blinked; he seemed to grasp what it must be like. It was easy to feel the shift in Erik's mind as he rewrote everything he knew of Charles, and there was something like a newfound tolerance that glowed in the back of his head. Erik sighed and the sound brimmed with unspoken apologies that he was too proud to say aloud.

"Erik, about tomorrow…" Charles began. "I can't tell you what's going to happen. We all just have to keep it together, work together. Otherwise, god knows what'll happen."

"I know that," Erik replied. "I told you that I'm going to kill Shaw, and I will. I haven't changed my mind about that – but you already know that, don't you?"

"Erik-"

"Don't, Charles," Erik held up a hand, palm out, cutting Charles off. "Don't tell me what to do. I can make my own choices."

"Most of which haven't been very wise!" Charles exclaimed. "You're lucky to be alive!"

"Oh, so you're going to what… hold my hand throughout the whole ordeal, make me ask you what I can and can't do every step of the way?" Erik snarled, his fingers pressing indents into the arm of his chair. Charles, for a disturbed moment, almost imagined them flicking through the air and ordering a bar of steel to wrap itself around his throat. That was how angry Erik was starting to blaze, and Charles, not for the first time, was afraid of the man across from him.

"No, Erik. No," Charles was no master at persuasion on his own, but he wanted Erik to believe that he would never cage him. Unfortunately, Erik didn't think the same think whatsoever. Instead, that was exactly what the metal-bender believed of Charles.

"Don't do to me that you've done with Raven," Erik warned, leaning forward in the chair. Charles, already heated from gathering snippets of Erik's thoughts, felt himself slide dangerously close to vehemence.

"I beg your pardon?"

"You heard me," Erik growled, meeting Charles eyes; his eyes were as icy as his words. "From the moment you met her, you've been trying to put her into a box. You pull her strings and you lock her away when she starts to blossom into who she's mean to be. I won't let you do the same to me, Charles."

"Erik!" Charles cried, his face pale with disbelief.. "Erik, stop. I'm not trying to trap you."

"Then why," Erik sighed. "Why don't you see? Why won't you understand that no matter what we do, nothing will change? The humans will never change. We have to be the ones to define that different, to set things straight."

"And we will!"

"How?" Erik sneered, his mouth curling viciously. "By sending Shaw off to prison and making friends with the humans?" His tone was unbelievably sarcastic, so much to the point that Charles had to break eye contact before he said something regretful. The telepath feared that he was losing his carefully-built wall of control that he'd started from the time he learned what he was; he'd never imagined himself losing his grasp on who he was to anger because of a single person.

Charles snorted and crossed his arms, prickling with frustration. Goddammit, Erik. "We'll take it one step at a time," he uttered through gritted teeth. Charles honestly didn't know what he was going to do, but he had to plant some kind of reassurance into Erik's head. Erik obviously heard this thought and he abruptly stood, taking a step that planted him uncomfortably close to Charles. Charles glimpsed the metal-bender's hands were trembling.

"What happens tomorrow will decide our fate," Erik told him quietly. "I'd rather you be standing with me, Charles."

It was agonizing. Charles, at a complete loss for words, bowed his head and nodded, feeling small and helpless like a child being ordered what to do. I'm with you Charles pushed the thought at Erik, but he couldn't help the mixed emotions drifting along with it. Erik let out a long breath.

"Charles," he said, almost with affection. "You're not my enemy."

"As long as we cannot agree to something, I think that we might be," Charles murmured. Erik reached out but seemed to think better of it, and he let his hand drop back to his side.

"If you want to think that way, then fine," Erik's tone grew brittle again. He'll never understand it.

Charles' brows furrowed and he raised his head. "I do understand, Erik. I know what Shaw did to you. I'll never understand how a man could even think to do those terrible things to a child…" Erik's eyes softened slightly but at the same time, his shoulders grew ridged at Charles' pity. "Erik, no person deserves to die, but Shaw must pay for what he did to you."

Erik said nothing. Even his mind was blank. The only thing that Charles could read from the metal-bender was a distinct feeling of astonishment. Charles smiled and clapped a hand to Erik's shoulder.

"After tomorrow, things will get better," Charles grinned. Erik looked rather doubtful.

"Is that a promise?" Erik asked; his tone suggested amusement but his eyes were serious, focused on Charles'.

Charles shook his head, relieved that the argument was over. "I'm not very good with promises," he laughed. "But maybe I'll be luckier with this one."