A few hours into the flights, Charles finally revealed himself again. When Logan caught sight of the sky outside the jet's windows – which he desperately tried not to, he didn't need a reminder that he was flying above the Atlantic Ocean – it had darkened to the point where only pinpoints of stars shone out from the pitch black night. Erik, meanwhile, had not talked to Logan any further but had found a chess set. Now he saw his chance to use it since Logan's discouraging look quite clearly told him that Logan would not play with him. Using the chess set as a way of apology for being an aforementioned asshole, Erik places it on the table in front of Charles. "Fancy a game? It's been a while."
A while does not cover the lifetime Charles has aged in the decade since he has last seen and played with Erik. Up until that point he had been avoiding eye contact with Erik, but now he had no choice. "I'm not in the mood for games, thank you." He politely declined, making his point clear that Erik was not quite forgiven yet.
From where Logan was seated he watched with hooded eyes. He was very tired, and he was wary to let the two old friends talk lest they succeed in destroying the plane this time. However, the lull of the engine's hum soothed him to sleep and he was pleasantly drowsy from the many shot glasses of whiskey he downed to calm his nerves. Something deep inside him assured him that sleep was fine at this point. Maybe it was his internal clock telling him it was very late, or the jet lag was starting to settle in. Perhaps it went deeper than that, like a time travel lag. In his heart he liked to believe that Darcy was with him in some way, most likely standing guard over his prone body. With her, he could find sleep, even if he wasn't so much in her arms as he was in her sights. Either way, he sighed and stopped thinking long enough to dream of first nothing and then of his Darcy, whom he so desperately missed.
As soon as Logan closed his eyes, Erik poured himself a drink. He savored the rich, smokey flavor of it on his tongue, eyes closed in bliss, before he finally swallowed his meager mouthful. "I haven't had a real sip in ten years." He ruefully admits, and then switches to a much more serious and somber topic. "I didn't kill the president."
Charles does not seemed surprised at the change in conversation, and he doesn't shy away from Erik's heavy, steady gaze. "The bullet curved, Erik." His tone displayed his disbelief tacitly.
"Because I was trying to save him. They took me out before I could." Erik was earnest and remained standing. His towering height had not intimidated Charles and intimidation tactics did not work when one was trying to appear honest and innocent.
"Why would you try to save him?" Charles still was not convinced.
Erik leveled his gaze with Charles' clear blue eyes, for now devoid of tears and redness. "Because he was one of us."
This was surprising information for Charles, though he quickly recovered from his shock at Erik's candidness and frankness. "You must think me so foolish. You've always said they would come after us."
With that settled and his name cleared, Erik brought the conversation back around to present events. "I never imagined they'd use Raven's DNA to do it."
However, his old friend Charles did not want to discuss the future's bleak and dismal possibilities so much as he wanted to dig up and relive the past he had so firmly been stuck in the past couple of years he has mourned the loss of his closest friends and family, lovers and loved ones. "When did you last see her?"
The light that came to Charles' blue eyes at the mention of Raven was like a blue flame, intense. There was no possible way Erik could avoid this discussion now, he trapped himself in it by bringing up Raven, the source of so much strife between them. He almost sighed his answer. "The day I left for Dallas." He finally took his seat since he was no longer on trial as guilty until proven innocent.
"And how was she?" Charles sat forward in his seat, eager for some information on her.
Emotionlessly, Erik took the point of view of her as a Mutant Sister in their Righteous Struggle against Humanity. "Strong, driven, loyal." He was proud.
"No," that wasn't what Charles was looking for, "How… how was she?"
Ah. Now Erik understood. The emotions he had staved off until then flooded him now and he struggled for the proper words to explain his heavy and strong feelings. "She was…we were…" He paused and looked up at Charles who was waiting a bit impatiently, blue eyes bulging. "I could see why she meant so much to you." He lamely finished. There were some things between them that he couldn't share with Charles. "You should be proud of her, Charles. She's out there fighting for our cause."
"Your cause." Charles corrected. His voice had hardened, but his eyes reflected his almost maternal concern. "The girl I raised, she was not capable of killing."
Erik's temper flared. "You didn't raise her, you grew up with her. She couldn't stay a little girl forever. That's why she left." In more ways than one Erik insured that Raven took a mighty leap into adulthood. He wasn't going to tell Charles that, though. There wasn't a need to bring up something private between Raven and him.
"She left because you got inside her head." Charles gritted out between his teeth.
Now Charles was the one caught in a verbal trap. "That's not my power." Erik reminded his old friend. He didn't need to say that that wasn't his power anymore, judging from Charles' offended look. "She made her choice." He said with finality that shouldn't be argued with.
Still, Charles argued with him all the same. He was very good at that. "But now we know where that choice leads, don't we? She's going to murder Trask. They're going to capture her, and then they're going to wipe us all out." His head shook at the violence of the tactics that ultimately ended in failure, death, and extinction.
"Not if we get to her first." Erik reassured Charles, consoling him with all the comfort a proverbial hand on his hand would have. "Not if we change history tomorrow." The parental symbolism ended with the grandiose in that statement, but the grandiose died with the softness in Erik's next words. "I'm sorry, Charles." He finally apologized to his old friend. "For what happened, I truly am."
The tears reappeared in Charles' eyes and Erik was frustrated at the sight of them. He couldn't ask why he was crying, though. When they had first met, Erik did most of the crying anyway. The emotional stability had flipped. Now Charles was the vulnerable one. "What about Darcy?" his old friend asked with no small amount of hesitancy.
Erik tilted his head down, his brow flat over his eyes. His old friend was wading into dangerous waters again, and Erik was the shark smelling blood in the water. It was bad blood between them over yet another girl, one where they shared no tenderness for as family but as lovers. "What about her?"
From where he sat in the deepest of sleep, Logan was roused by the growl in Erik's voice. It was almost as if he sensed Darcy's name being brought up in the conversation. Don't put it past him to do that. Secretly, he opened his eyes just a smidge enough to see the other two men. He kept his breathing deep and even. This definitely concerned him in some way.
"Don't be coy, Erik. Or obtuse. It doesn't suit you." Charles played with the drink in his hand. "I saw you two on the elevator. What did it mean to you?"
Sitting back in his chair, Erik thought of his reply and carefully constructed it in his head. He had to tread easy lest their conversation end in another shouting match. Nobody wanted that. "I haven't had a real kiss in ten years." When he saw Charles' teary blue eyes narrow defensively like a rankled mother hen, he knew that answer wouldn't suffice. "You know we were once intimate, even before we met." Erik explained, "She was the first friendly face in so long, in a decade. Darcy was rescuing me despite everything." Despite you, Charles.
For the life of him, Charles didn't know why he asked his next question so bluntly. "Did you stop to think that she was still with me? Because the last you saw of either of us, she was with me."
"Well, judging by her response to my – the kiss, I took it that she was not with you. A lot can happen in ten years, you know." Erik was too casual, and it came off as too defensive. "Is she still with you? Before today, that is." He turned the questions back on Charles.
"No." Charles answered bitterly. "She left far too soon after you and Raven did. The woman, Moira, drove a wedge between us. As did Raven. And you."
"And other things, I'm sure. Other people are not the only sources to blame." Erik sounded as stern as a father.
"Yes." Charles was properly shamed. "Did you know she greeted me with a kiss? That she was perfectly happy with helping us break you out of prison?"
Erik narrowed his eyes. Where was this line of questioning going? "What does that have to do with anything?" His voice was low, and he was confused.
"I don't know." Charles honestly admitted, looking frazzled. "What do you think all this means?"
"She's a complicated creature," Logan almost snorted, very tempted to break his cover and Erik's nose. He didn't have to, though. Charles gave Erik a look of disappointment. "Woman." He amended.
"That she is, Erik." And Charles' tone to Erik was the same one he used with that exact phrase being spoken to Hank about Raven previously. Now Logan understood. This was all so complicated who loved who, but with Darcy it was a very easy list to keep. Erik, Charles, and Logan loved her; she loved all of them, excluding Logan to his extreme disappointment, in return. Hank had no real relationship with Darcy and vice versa. Raven, finally, despised Darcy for the history they shared with the men in their life. It WAS a good thing she did not come along after all. Why did it all have to be this way?
With that all settled, Logan drifted back into his sleep, chasing after the dream figure of Darcy he crafted from memories. She was the one who loved him, after all. The men at the table seemed to have reached an unspoken conclusion to let her go. Darcy can decide who she wants, but both Charles and Erik know who they want. Charles finished his drink and set it aside. He looked down at the chest set, shifting in his seat with briskness that came from getting down to business. Moving on, he addresses Erik in a much lighter tone. "It's been a while since I've played."
The flirtatious response came all too easily to Erik's lips. "I'll go easy on you. It might finally be a fair fight."
When Charles looked up at him, he didn't look like he had been crying. "You have the first move."
Erik looked down at the chess board and with his powers of metal manipulation, he magnetically moved one of the pieces gilded with silver plating forward. Charles put his hand to his mouth, and focused his attention on the board with a concentration that wasn't there before. All of Erik's attention was on Charles with predator eyes, hungry eyes.
