AFTERMATH

Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Genre: Hurt/Comfort
Pairing: Charles/Erik
Rating: MA
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters. I don't own any of the following quotes. Credits to Anthony Burgess, George Orwell and H.G. Wells.

Summary: Charles and Erik fell in love before Cuba. They still love each other. Neither of them, however, has seen the other after Cuba. When Erik decides to visit the man he used to love, he's got to realise that some things have changed, while others never will…

Part One – A Clockwork Orange

"Is it better for a man to have chosen evil than to have good imposed upon him?"

Charles woke up with a startle. His heart was beating fast and his pulse shot high. He felt a painful force on his chest – he couldn't breathe.
Something or someone was putting immense pressure upon his body. It scared him, and the feeling of panic took over him and he wanted to scream when his mouth was suddenly harshly covered by what felt like a hand.
"Shush, shsh…Charles, it's me," whispered a soft, familiar voice.
Charles didn't listen though. He was too much in a rave of panic and fear. His upper body tried a struggle for his legs and feet couldn't move at all. Only when he felt fingers slowly and carefully stroking his cheek did he give up resistance.

"I was already scared you'd never notice," whispered the soft voice again, this time much closer to Charles' ear. The stranger's hot breath against his earlobe made him shutter.
His mouth was released and before he could speak he felt his lips once more conquered by a stronger force.

When their lips parted, Charles' eyes had grown used to the darkness and he could make out the shapes of someone he wanted to scream, shout at him. He wanted to fight or do something. Once again, this man paralysed him – his entire body. Pain and anger. This man, this monster – Erik, wasn't welcome anymore. None of his group were. He didn't want to say anything. Charles felt that everything had been said a long time ago but instead – and he didn't know why – he asked: "Why are you here?"

Erik's hands were carefully stroking through his hair. Charles didn't understand. He wasn't supposed to do that. He moved uncomfortably underneath the other man.

"I wanted to see you," whispered Erik, "which reminds me…" Miraculously, the light was turned on – of course, the little metal light switch was no challenge for Erik. Charles squinted against the light and Erik. The man hadn't changed at all. But then again, it had only been eight weeks since their ways had parted in Cuba. Eight weeks that had seemed like an eternity to Charles.
When Charles' eyes had gotten used to the light he saw Erik's genuine smile which caused something that felt like an electric impulse shoot through his body. There; he could feel his arms again, his fingers, his belly…everything except for his legs.
That smile.
Erik lowered his head for another kiss but Charles turned away. He couldn't let this happen. "No. You are not supposed to be here."

Not after all the things Erik had done to him.

Part Two – 1984

"Until they became conscious they will never rebel, and until after they have rebelled they cannot become conscious."

"I missed you."
It hurt. It hurt to hear him say that. Through all this time Charles had been wondering if Erik had been missing him as much as he had missed him. Secretly he'd been hoping that Erik missed him, too. He had feared another encounter though.
It just hurt too damn much.
"I missed you, too." His throat felt sore for the words were too much of a self-destructive force taking over his own mind.

Erik wrapped his hands gently around Charles' fine neck – this man was all his. "I've missed you so much, Charles," he purred and when Charles felt the man's hot breath against his neck he felt slightly aroused.

Erik felt a twitch in his hands. It was more than that. It was a desire he could hardly suppress anymore. He felt the need to break this beautiful neck in a soft, determined squeeze. His grip tightened and his ears perceived a dull gasp from a far distance but his heart skipped a beat and blood shot down his body. He had missed him so much. Eight weeks had been such a long time.

It must have been some sort of kink for Erik had always loved precious, fragile things in such a way that they'd be usually broke after just a couple of days he had them. Before Auschwitz, when his parents had still tried to make him belief that things were alright in Germany, they had bought him a little plushy. He'd loved it so much that he'd ripped its head off only a couple of days later. Somehow it made him happy. He enjoyed the feeling of being superior, but more than that, the feeling of being responsible for something or someone. He had the power, the control, and he could use it anytime he desired. He didn't want to hurt Charles though. He didn't want to hurt him just as much as he never wanted to rip off the plushy's head. It just…happened. The thought of hurting Charles confused him for it made his blood throb hard inside his veins; it aroused him, and still left him a guilty man who really just wanted the best for the things he loved.

His hand slid down Charles' body until they found his numb legs. He slowly parted them and felt between them. Charles wasn't hard and it kind of disappointed Erik. Hadn't Charles missed him, too? Was it the choking?
"I really shouldn't do this …sort of kink again, should I?" Erik giggled but the truth was: He felt horrible. There was something not quite right. There was some imaginary force keeping a cold distance between them and he didn't like it. Was it his fault? Perhaps I should be gentler he thought to himself and leant in to kiss Charles.

Foul illness took over his body when Erik's lips left traces on his body. He wanted to scream for help. The itchy touches felt like needle pins slowly perforating his skin. Charles knew he was bleeding. He had to be. He could feel his own body fluid heavy on his skin and the thought made his stomach revolt. He had to vomit. He had to. He just had to. Fuck, he wanted to. He needed a reason for this man to get off him. Erik's hands were everywhere and Charles knew that he had no possibility to escape the man's tight grip. He tried to move his legs but all he felt was a threatening pain in his lower abdominal muscle.

"Stop it," whimpered Charles and his watery eyes released salty drops of vulnerability.

Part Three: The Time Machine

"Right and left we can go, backward and forward freely enough, and men have always done so."

Erik froze in shock. The sound of Charles' words pierced marrow and bone. They made him feel every single hair stand on end.
From a faraway distance Erik could hear echoes of long gone voices; voices he heard many years ago yell in pain and fear. These voices had belonged to friends, family, and, fellow prisoners of had been so much pain in Charles' voice; pain Erik recognised instantly.
"Bitte! Aufhören…nein! Nein! Bitte nicht…"

He let off the other man by getting up entirely. Automatically, he chose a safe distance from the other. He was now standing a couple of centimetres away from Charles' bed and looking down at the scared creature. Colour had left his face and his hands were slightly shaking.
"I didn't mean to…" he stammered regretfully. Charles' eyes seemed to be reflecting all the pain and fear Erik had felt as a little boy. It hit him hard, right in his face, and it hurt as much as it'd hurt back then. He felt Charles' desperation, his defencelessness, his hopelessness.

"Are you doing this to me?" Erik asked with a tremble in his voice.

Charles' shook his head slightly. He hadn't entered Erik's mind and even if he wanted to: He couldn't focus enough right now.

When he was younger he used to have a blockage like that quite often. As a little boy he hadn't been capable of controlling his skill as much as he was now. Every now and then he would have had either a blockage, a moment in which he couldn't enter any type of mind. Or the stream of information would be too much so that he couldn't make it stop entering other minds. Sometimes it'd felt like he was losing himself. There had been times where he believed to be someone else for he kept thinking thoughts that belonged to someone else. It took him years to gain full power over his telepathic ability.

Now the blockage had returned. His body and soul felt too empty, too weak in order to do anything other than just lying there in a hopeless position he was more than ashamed of.

"I am so sorry," Erik whispered while tears were welling up in his eyes. The wheelchair next to Charles' on the other side of the bed was only a blurry image but the truth was intimidatingly clear.

"I never wanted this to happen." The tears started dripping down his bony cheeks. He knew that there was nothing left to add. Despite all the things he wanted to say…there was nothing.

The End