Embers, Pain and Still Warm Tea
This is the first time he's been to that house since that day before they left in the jet. Before he knew what would become of his already broken life. Charles…. It would be nice to see him again. But what would he say to him? The things that happened that day he left could never be undone. And never forgiven, in his eyes. And as those same steely-gray eyes roamed over that familiar house, a small shiver ran down his spine. To be back here felt safe, but he felt unwanted. He hoped he could even enter the house without incident. He knew Charles wouldn't know he was there, as he was wearing his remarkable helmet. But one of the others could be awake and stop him. Then again, it was late at night. He wanted walk in, leave his note, and walk out. He would leave it by Charles' favorite chair; perhaps under the chess board, then he might not find it for awhile.
Erik strode up to the door and undid the lock with his powers without a sound and entered. He walked down the friendly hallway as if walking in a memory. He saw the many interesting things on the wall left by Charles' past ancestors; coat of arms, swords, masks, china cabinets… there's the one Banshee broke the glass of when practicing his power in the hall. Charles had put his face in his hand with a smile and a laugh and waved it off saying that he should probably practice outside next time.
He half-smiles in that distant way. To go back to those times when everything seemed so serious, but really it was the most care-free he had been in his whole life. Save the lovely night when he was a boy- No! That must not enter his mind. He had become strong now. He didn't need that memory anymore. Especially since it was unburied by-
He shakes his head and keeps on walking. He turns the corner, almost at the sitting room and stops. The fireplace is lit. The bright embers flicker off the wall and then his eyes as he enters the room mechanically with his lips slightly parted. He knows who lit it. And there he is, just sitting there as he ever had been. Sitting calmly reading a book- most likely something scientific; he didn't bother to look- with a blanket over his legs.
Erik just stood in the doorway with his hands lax at his sides, watching him. Charles moved his hand to the side table for his tea, lifted it to his mouth and just smelled it. A small smile came to his lips as if in a memory. The tea was still too hot to drink so he moved to put it down but stopped. Erik was watching Charles' hand first, then went back to his face and his adrenaline raced when a troubled look came into the other man's eyes. When it reached his forehead and mouth, the tea dropped and the cup shattered. Erik took half a step back in near-fright, dreading what his old friend might say to his being there. In this flash-thought, Charles snapped his head to the door with his mouth open.
"Erik!?" His strangled yelp echoed a little down the hallway and they both jumped a little.
Erik breathes in then out. "Hello Charles. I didn't expect to find you awake. I'm sorry for intruding. I just wanted to leave this letter." He waves the envelope carelessly as though seeing his close friend and now- he supposes- enemy had no effect on him at all. But Charles knows better. A comforting smile tries to break out, but memories flooded back into the room and it fades to seriousness.
"I see. So you're not here to try and convert my students to your ideas of justification."
A playful smiles crosses Erik's face "Charles, I'm wounded. I would never try to take your children away from you. Plus they probably have your ideas so integrated into their minds by you that they would never be swayed." Charles sighs and a thought enters his mind to simply try and be as they were before if only for a few minutes. He gestures to the chair.
"Won't you sit down, my friend? I would like to reminisce of times before that day."
"Actually, I was just thinking that we should go for a walk. Get your coat, shall I?" He starts to walk to the closet around the corner when he catches the look on the other man's face. "What's the matter? I remember you much spryer than that and never one to turn down a round about the garden. Especially when you have the chance to wear your favorite scarf." He uncharacteristically winks and goes to the closet to get out Charles' coat and scarf. The tiny place smelled of him; the whole house did as a matter-of-fact. A cracked voice called to him from the other room.
"Erik….." As said man's head popped back in the room Charles looks up resolutely. "I can't get up." Erik's eyebrow rises.
"Can't you tear yourself away from your sitting room and books for a few moments? Come on. I'll carry you if I have to. You're coming outside."
Without missing a beat: "You'll have to if you're that desperate…." Looking down, he continues. "I mean…. I can't… get… up."
Erik looks at him confused, trying to understand what the hell Charles is talking about. Then it hits him. Or rather, he remembers it hitting Charles…. In the back. "You….. You can't-"
"Yes." His hands are folded in his lap and a poker look set on his face.
The other man blinks and then looks frustrated. "Stop playing with me Charles. It doesn't do you well to make jokes." He walked quickly to Charles' side and grabs his arm to pull him up. He hears a frantic 'Erik!' come from the man's lips but pays it no heed. He yanks his arm roughly and pulls him out of the chair. To Erik's surprise, his friend falls to the ground with a grunt. That day…. At the beach…. It must have done more damage than he originally thought.
"Charles!" he wraps his arms under him and keeps him up. "I…. I did this…."
Charles moves his hand quickly to Erik's shoulder. "No, my friend! You did not mean to do this. Do NOT put the blame on yourself."
Erik picks Charles up and puts him back in the chair. "Charles, the fact is that it IS my fault, whether you say it is or not." He tries to straighten up and his arm is caught and he is pulled to look his friend full in the face.
"No, Erik! It's not! I'll not have you thinking that! The only thing you did wrong that day to me was leave!" Both men are shocked by these words. Charles wants to look away but can't. Erik is trying to find that deep, painful guilt inside him that will force him to leave, but all he can think about is that Charles looks like he's about to cry. Charles lets go of Erik's arm and reaches down to pick up his blanket to give himself something to do. Erik doesn't move for a second, then blinks and leans over to get Charles' book for him that got flung a short ways away and hands it to him. "Thank you." Charles says in a half-flustered, half-curt way.
That deep pain floods in. Unknowingly, to them both. Erik takes out his letter, walks to the chess board- funny that it doesn't seem to have been moved since he had last been there- and slips the envelope under it.
"Good bye, Charles." He says quickly, "Sorry about your tea." He walks to the door at a quick pace.
Charles bursts "Erik…" Erik stops, not turning around. Charles has 'don't leave me again' just behind his lips but sighs instead. "Good bye, my friend. You'll always have a place here." He speaks these words knowing that they could never be true. Erik hesitates half a second and walks out leaving the only true friend he's ever had with a pain in his shoulder and heart and a spilled and broken cup of still warm tea.