At the end of his patience, Erik decides to send Charles to go see Emma.

Maybe she'll see something he has missed so far, maybe she'll be able to direct Charles in a way that will help him get better.

She is a psychoanalyst after all, and if Charles has faith in anything, it's the sciences.

Charles isn't on board immediately when he suggests it but Erik is quick to reassure him.

"She is trustworthy, don't worry. I've known her for a long time."

He doesn't actually trust Emma, of course not. The only one he trusts is himself -and Charles- but he watches Emma closely enough, knows enough of her secrets, that he doesn't need to trust her. He doesn't bother Charles with that distinction though, mindful of his lover's need to always see the best in people, no matter how risky it might be.

"Just try it, I think it might be helpful," he pulls Charles against him, kisses his hair reassuringly, "Talk to her, yes? For us."

After a moment, Charles nods against his chest and Erik squeezes his shoulder, happy.

It doesn't come easily to him, relying on someone else, giving up control, but for Charles, for them, he is willing to try almost anything.

xxx

Charles sits on the couch across from the well-groomed blonde woman, anxiously wringing his hands.

This latest idea Erik's come up with is not without its merits, mainly the fact that being here in the city means being away from the mob boss. Unfortunately, he finds himself just as on edge, nervous about Emma Stone's questions. She is coolly polite and professional in any way he can see, and god knows he needs therapy badly, but the woman is Erik's colleague, or friend or whatever, so she is no actual source of relief, just another mine field to maneuver through.

He cannot open up to her, not truly, because she will certainly tell Erik everything he says here, but at the same time he has to say something, can't seem uncooperative.

So he is sitting there, more and more unnerved with every question Emma asks him, because he can tell that the woman is smart, and not about to willfully delude herself like Erik. She'll see right through him. He ends up saying nothing, instead of lying, using all the rethorical skills he has to form the emptiest phrases possible.

He suspects Emma notices, but it's hard to tell what she is thinking under her professional mask, and anyway, it's all Charles can do.

"Erik says you're trying to get over your stress response, but just don't know how to. He wants me to help you with it. I'd like to hear your thoughts on that," Emma says, eyes sharp.

"I'm trying as hard as I can," Charles answers, "to make things go back to normal. I just...need more time."

Maybe she'll be able to convince Erik of that.

"I'd say," Emma answers, meaning-ladden.

Charles doesn't ask her what she is thinking. He doesn't know who Emma is in Erik's world of crime, but he'd be stupid to open up to her in any way.

"I told Erik that you need therapy, and a removal of all stressors," Emma says, surprising him, "but as you'll guess he isn't entirely...receptive to the idea. I'd suggest you tell him more clearly what exactly is stressing you and why...but I can already see what's going on there."

Of course she can. Anyone but Erik would.

Charles bites his tongue, saying nothing. She's so perceptive, so smart, but what's the use? She isn't really here to help him, just Erik.

"I've told Erik everything I feel." He just didn't listen. "Now I'm just trying to...make him happy. But it's hard."

"Well, it's admirable that you're even trying," Emma says, still full of double entendre, "Surprising even I'd say. Your family must mean a lot to you."

Charles looks up, fully meeting her gaze for the first time and seeing what he is suspecting in her blue gaze. She knows what's going on, what he is doing. There is no use in lying to her.

"It does," he answers gravely, letting his true emotions bleed through for the first time, "I'd do anything for them."

Emma nods in understanding, hearing him and yet somehow unaffected.

"It looks like you'll have to."

Charles swallows convulvisly, dread coiling in his gut. "What are you going to tell Erik?"

To her credit, Emma doesn't try to play dumb. "I don't really think it matters what I tell him, honey. Erik's going to hear what he wants to anyway. I'd wish you luck, but I think you're too intelligent to not know how this will end."

x