A/N: this fic happened because i was having too much Cherik feels. I'm embracing the pain, just like what Charles said in DOFP /creys/
Anyway this is my first fic in X-Men fandom and i think i kinda improved on creating details...
Special thanks to my friends Chii, Alice, Reki and Ryuumao because they helped me deciding on the title and gave some ideas XD
Also this is set before DOFP where Charles is struggling with himself. So yeah, enjoy the pain.
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Different Sky: Chapter 1
Charles sighs in exasperation, dropping his heavy body to the bed. Reaching his nightstand and taking a bottle of spine therapy, he infused himself with it and rolls the emptied syringe to his side. He closes his eyes, feeling the drug working inside his body, bringing him far away from his power. He likes the silence – the peace in his mind without all the desperate sounds of his fellow mutants. He doesn't care anymore since the first semester of his school had been closed down due to his students and teachers leaving to fight for the Vietnam War. Nothing seems to matter anymore with everything's been taken away from him. He has lost everything dear to him. His sister. His ability. His best friend.
Erik. He grits his teeth just by remembering his name. The man that turned his back on him for the sake of his selfish demand on wanting the mutants to rule over humans. Illogical. Complete, utter bullshit. He thinks to himself. Look where that nonsense led you.
The previous night, Hank had made him a cup of hot chocolate and they spent time by watching TV together. He smiled and took the cup gladly from his hands, blowing the fumes away, waiting for it to cool a little so he could drink it. He's wearing his oversized cardigan to make him warm, but also covered himself in an extra blanket to keep him away from the chilly air of November. Another reason that's keeping him at his feet beside his ability to walk again is the loyal mutant sitting beside him. He hasn't lost everything, fortunately.
Hank changed the channel once the film they previously watched was over, and his finger stopped pressing the next button on the remote when a reporter on the TV announced that John. F. Kennedy was killed. He was shot in Dallas, Texas just yesterday, and the one who was said to be accountable in the president's death instantly made Charles' expression turned horror. Unable to hold the weight on his weakened hands, the mug slipped and fell to the floor.
It was like everything happened in slow motion. His mind was playing games with him. He did not just hear the name Erik Lehnsherr for assassinating JFK. As badly as he wanted to know his whereabouts without the help of his telepathic ability, he didn't expect something like this would happen. Why? His mind couldn't stop thinking at a rapid speed that almost caused him to collapse, but the shattered glass on the floor and the feeling of his feet burning jolted him back to reality. "Ouch!" He shrieked.
"Are you okay, Professor?" Hank panicked, he quickly helped Charles to get up, placing one hand on his waist and put the professor's arm over his shoulder. "The mug—" Hank growled at him, even when he's suffering greatly, he still thought of other people's feelings, not wanting them to take care of his mess. "Your feet are far more important than the mug!" He said, voice one octave higher than his normal calm tone, and brought the miserable man to the bathroom to wash his burned legs.
"I'm really sorry for troubling you like this, Hank." He said, smiling at the man that's bandaging his feet. Hank looked up at him and smiled back, saying that it's nothing. Charles couldn't hide some blush that crept to his face, knowing that Hank must knew that he took the news pretty badly till he actually dropped the cup he was holding. That's really embarrassing. It's all because of one particular man that shot JFK. What have you done, Erik?
He later knew that Erik was securely guarded inside the Pentagon in Virginia, and he's going to spend the rest of his life there for the abominable crime that he did. Peace was what Charles promised to him if he let go of his vengeance, but peace was not what Erik wanted. If he would just listen to him, they didn't have to chase after a different sky. They still could have had it all.
Charles feels like he could hear the voice of Erik in Pentagon desperately screaming for his help, but he knows that it's not real. Beside of the fact that the distance of Westchester and Virginia is beyond his telepathic area, he's also lost his power for some time now, no trail of loud, misery thoughts to disturb him. He gets up nonchalantly from his bed just to sit on his couch near the fireplace– the same couch he always sit on whenever he and Erik plays chess together– and pours himself a good amount of Scotch.
He sighs and leans his ponderous head back on the couch, kneading his forehead in hope to make his headaches go away, but he can't help the images of Erik comes flashing through his mind. They used to play chess every night, right where he sits on now. Erik would always be sitting across from him, wearing his usual black turtleneck that outlined his muscular body shape. He groans at the thought, clearly doesn't want to remember the moments they had together when Erik was still here, both good and bad. It hurts him to remember. He wants to forget. He wants to annihilate the pain in his chest but it's inevitable. Sometimes he gets lost in the past and he's letting it consumes his heart out till there's nothing left.
He drinks his Scotch and closes his eyes, giving up to his mind that's projecting the time where Erik had first kissed him. It was shallow and soft– nevertheless full of desire. Charles knew that they didn't need words to convey what they feel, as action speaks more than words. They used to love each other greatly. Where is that thing called love now? The distance between their hearts that can't come together daunts him even now.
Sometimes on lonely nights, he would go to Erik's old room and stays there, reminiscing memories he had with the man. Charles never felt lonelier when all he could do was to hug one of the turtlenecks Erik had left, not being able to hold the real person. He often falls asleep on the floor, just hugging the shirt tightly to his chest. He has no one to embrace the tears and pains for him now. Erik's not going to come home no matter how hard he wishes, no matter how long he waits, he knows it from the beginning.
He stares at the empty couch across from him and frowns, but there's a little smile at the corner of his lips.
His mind's scattering away from reality as he watches the fire dances and he finally falls asleep with tears on his cheeks.
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A/N: Second chapter will be updated soon, and it'll be over before you know it (nooo!) Reviews, fav and follows maybe? :D