Title: Don't Let The Days Go By
Author: Night of the Land
Category: X-Men: First Class
Rating: K+
Disclaimer: not mine
Summary: We had tussled on the ground for a moment, and if the blows landed hadn't been so real I could have almost fooled myself into thinking that this was just a friendly tussle on an unmade bed.
A/N: So just saw the new movie, and I was totally squee-ing all the way through it. The relationship that Charles and Erik had was so sweet that it could not have been as innocent as they would like us to believe. So, I've put them together.
Aside from my fangirl-ing, I really do enjoy the relationship between Erik and Charles, and I was very sad (even though I was knew it was coming) the separation at the end of the movie.
There were many days when I wish I wasn't telepathic. When I wish I couldn't hear and feel the thoughts, the intentions, the hopes and dreams of others, so clearly as if they were my own.
When I was a child I was overwhelmed with the thoughts of my classmates and my teachers. I became withdrawn and quiet, hoping that if I stayed quiet they would too. I soon learned that if I did quiet my own mind then I could concentrate on keeping other minds out.
As an adult, I have many days that I want nothing more then to be able to turn it off, if only for a few moments, so I can sleep. But I've resigned myself to the endless nights of insomnia that seem to have gotten worse as I've gotten older, but especially since that day on the beach in Cuba.
I can recall it clearly, the fear that radiated from both the American Navy ships and the Russian ships. Their fear is almost palpable and it taste of bitter honey, the sensation so clear in my head as if it were my own thought, my own fear.
My hand had dropped to my side and I knew that I had to stop the events that were preparing to transpire. I turned to my friend, my brother, my… lover. His face was hard as the metal he so easily commanded and I felt my heart give a tug as his anger was completely clear even though he was wearing that damnable helmet.
The fear that I was sensing from the fleet turned to anticipation as the horizon was dotted with the outlines of some of the most advanced weaponry both militaries had to offer. I turned briefly to look back at the motley group that he and I had gather, hoping to bring an end to WWIII before it even began. There was fear on their faces, but under that I sensed trust and a sense of purpose and accomplishment as they had just stopped a nuclear war.
When the fiery death that we had all been expecting did not come I turned back to him, his hand out stretched, a bead of sweat dripped down his face under that dammed helmet. My heart sank in my chest as I watched the missiles turn from us back to the fleet.
"That's enough, Erik!" I called, willing my voice to keep from breaking, as I struggled to reach him, like I had once been able to do. I saw him falter just a bit and hope sparked briefly in my chest. "There are hundreds of people aboard those ships, who are just following orders."
His face tightened again and his shoulder squared as his blue eyes met mine, and I struggled to keep from drowning in those depths as I read pain, anger, regret and…love in the blue orbs. "I've been at the mercy of men just following orders…" he told me needlessly, as I already knew, and the next words dashed my spark of hope, "…never again."
When you've spent a life time sensing other's thoughts as clearly as if they were your own, you almost forget what it is to have your own feelings, to feel your own sense of fear. So, as I watched in horror as the missiles began their journey back towards the fleet, fear gripped my heart tight, and I realized with a started that it was my own fear that gripped me, no one else's.
Head pounding I shot forward, hoping to bring him to his senses, knocking him to the sandy beach. Briefly, I let my mind drift to the feel of his long lean body under my hands, as the memory of countless nights spent talking, laying nude in bed, or of the many times we had made love. But those thoughts scattered as I fist landed in my jaw, and the realization that this was a fight once more entered my mind.
We had tussled on the ground for a moment, and if the blows landed hadn't been so real I could have almost fooled myself into thinking that this was just a friendly tussle on an unmade bed in a room that smelled of our love making, before he managed to regain his feet.
The sounds of the guns had been deafening, and the only thought on my mind was to stop the madness, we needed to work together. I struggled through the soft sand to my feet and found myself once more falling to the ground.
The pain was unimaginable, the force of the blow knocking the wind out of me as a pained cry as my hand automatically reached to my back to try to stop the blinding ball of pain that began in my lower back and spread through my whole body in a matter of milliseconds.
Erik was there, catching me, holding me, and I , for the first time in a very long time, wished I could hear his thoughts. I gasped out my words in pained breaths, but none of them could covey what I wanted-needed-to say. There was a foggy haze over my mind, but I kept shouting mentally. Begging for him to remove that thrice dammed helmet, to make him see that I needed him. But his decision was made, and I closed my eyes to keep from seeing his betrayal as keenly as I felt it. Hot tears, as hot as the pain that consumed my body, burned trails of white hot betrayal and agony down my face.
The presence of my sister was gone, one more betrayal, one more person I so loved leaving me. It was only then that I realized that the pain that had radiated from my lower body was no longer there, in it's place was a stinging numbness that was both relieving and frightening.
I choked back a sob as I voiced my realization, "I can't feel my legs."
The words sounded hollow to my ears, but it was all I could say, all I could think, and I repeated it again and again, until the darkness that had been eating at the edge of my vision finally took over.
It was almost eleven months hence when I next saw him. His dark hair glinting in the sun light, his blue eyes cold and hard, so much like the man's soul. He was dressed impeccably in a fine suit of dark colours, and his voice washed over me in gentle waves, the lilting of his fine accent sent me back to memories I had buried long ago.
I must have been projecting my discomfort, because he turned with a world weary smirk on his face, before his eyes widened subtly when he saw me. So he must not have known then. Or he had known, but had just not been ready to accept it.
I noticed he was missing his helmet, and I couldn't help but project my thoughts to him. Erik. Not up to no good today?
Warmth invaded my mind, as did his reply, Not to day, Charles. The warmth of his affection was soon followed by the bitter cold of his guilt, shame and…was that self loathing I sensed?
I gave him a sincere smile, my first in many days, as I inched forward in the chair, coming to his side. He swallowed and I watched his Adam's apple bob, before I forced my eyes to meet his.
"It has been a long time, my friend." I spoke, my tone gentle and non assuming, voice surprisingly even.
"Almost a year." He replied, hedging on what he really wanted to say, on what he was thinking about saying.
We let the silence linger between us for a moment, the cold embrace of the guilt and pain enfolding us both, before I spoke. "I do not blame you, my friend."
He gave me a look, and I simply tapped two fingers to my temple, another gentle smile crossing my face. His eyes narrowed, before he said plainly, "Stay out of my head." The words lost their sting at the warmth behind them, and the cracking of the ice in his eyes. It wasn't much, just enough to let me know that the man I once knew was still the man I knew.
"As you wish," I thought at him and said aloud, causing him to give a gentle bark of laughter.
I gestured to my side, toward Central Park, "Shall we walk a bit?" I asked.
A wave of guilt passed over him, before he gave a brisk nod. We moved side by side, down one of the many paths in Central Park, our voices carried away on the wind as we talked of everything, yet nothing, as we had once done, not that long ago, when we were young and carefree.