A/N: As you all should know I do not own the genius that is X-men I am merely borrowing the characters and investing a small amount of personal spice.
Whiskey Kinda Way
"…Like that song on the jukebox/ her memory starts to play./ Guess I still want her/ In a whiskey kinda way." – Jerrod Niemann: Whiskey Kinda Way
There are some things that as people we stare clear of. For example murder. However Erik as was lacking in the moral compass likely a by-product of the environment with which he'd grown up in. To him there will always be a means to an end. Whatever or whoever that stood in his way was nothing more than a mild pest that would eventually meet its end by his hands or another's it held no relevance for him provided they did not antagonise him he wouldn't go out of his way to hunt them.
"Hello… Erik, are you ok? You've been sitting in on these meetings for some time." Mystique's hushed voice shatters Erik's blank look he'd held entire meeting so far. He'd been coming here for three years and never spoken preferring to sit in the far back corner and follow the meetings progress with a blank guarded look. Mystique had a feeling it had some relation to them leaving Charles and the rest of the 'X-men'- as they were now calling themselves- on the beach in Cuba. Over that time Mystique had become one of Erik's most trusted followers and the only one to know of his weekly excursions. However that said Erik was getting tired of her sticking to him, feeling he was being used as a replacement for Charles. Sighing he stands and leaves the hall as another member begins their climb to the podium. She follows like a puppy does a master.
Mystique is quiet as she follows Erik. Despite knowing she had followed Erik in Cuba as a statement of her independence she couldn't help but feel at a loss as to what to do with it so she followed Erik. "We should check on Charles?" The statement was said more like a question as she nervously looked up at Erik knowing she had just broken one of their unspoken rules. Breathing deeply Erik hesitated before turning around. Mystique instantly looked up determined to not let this argument simply fall to the wayside for the hundredth time. "I'm not stopping you from seeing him, Mystique I have made it clear that your time is your own when not on a mission." With that he walked past her in the opposite direction to the rooms they were currently renting. Mystique had half the mind to follow him and share a piece of her mind about how he had been Charles closest friend before Cuba a he should want to see the man. But there had been glint in his eyes perhaps a sheen even, of heartache in Erik's eye that told her perhaps this was one of those times the man needed to be alone.
Erik walked seemingly aimless down the streets New York till he found himself at the park. He walked over to one of the many chess tables. Just looking them he found his mind drifting back to the time he and Charles had spent together. The late night talks, the silent understanding the other had. He missed Charles its true but that was why he went to the meetings it helped him not think about him. As Erik sat staring at the half finish game that someone must have walked away from a brass coin circled his fingers mindlessly twirling. The simplicity of the action was more habit now then anything. He remembered how Charles had helped him unlock the potential of his gift, and though he'd never tell Charles the thoughts that now brought him to serenity were all centred around the man that now sat in a wheelchair because of him. Once that thought slipped through his defence Erik found himself bombarded with thoughts of guilt and self-loathing. Yes he had once been Charles's friend but he knew he was the Judas in their relationship. There was no forgiveness for him, and he was a fool to even contemplate the possibility because even if it was granted Erik would not change sides and neither Charles was as stubborn as he was naïve. Yes, Erik knew that. A sad smile crossed his face as he stood dropping the three year coin he'd collected only this morning in the trash can on his way out of the park.
Charles sat at his desk quiet in thought as he wrote a letter. There was a look of loss plan as day written across his face. Hanging his head in silent submission, he sealed the envelope writing clearly on the front Erik. He shook his head, as he opened the bottom draw on the left the desk adding another letter to the draw at was closely packed with letters. The draw was then closed and locked before he wheeled himself out of the room the silence instantly being displaced by the yelling and laughter as the door opened. Charles took a deep breath and a warm smile as he wheeled himself down the hall.
