A/N: There is a short time skip between the end of the last chapter and the start of this one, in case anyone is confused.
Charles watches as a bead of sweat trickles down Erik's nose.
"I can't," Erik admits, arms dropping back to his sides. He glares at the immobile boulder in front of him as if its continued stillness causes him personal offense.
They've landed their newly acquired—and Charles has every intention to return it, truly—starship on an uninhabited planet rich with iron ore. Erik's humoring him, giving Charles a demonstration of his power.
"You lifted all of those easily enough," Charles says, gesturing to the rocks scattered around them. "And the star destroyer. You were practically shaking the entire ship."
Erik looks frustrated. "Something that big, I need the situation, the anger."
"Erik," Charles says, because this is something he knows that Erik needs to change. "You cannot continue to use that to direct your ability."
"Why not?" Erik asks, tone sardonic, "Because it will lead to 'the Dark Side?'"
"No," Charles says seriously. "Because it will consume you, I assure you."
And I don't want that to happen.
Erik looks surprised, as if he had caught a tendril of meaning from the thought. "Sorry," Charles apologizes, because he's found that people have a tendency to be disturbed when he accidentally uses his powers—as if they're afraid that he could lose control one day.
But Erik shrugs away the apology, as if the matter is inconsequential to him. "Why not?" he asks, in response to the thought Charles let escape earlier.
Charles takes a deep breath. "Because I think you're a person worth saving."
"You think every person is worth saving," Erik says, amused.
"Ah, but you, my friend, I have personal interest in."
And Charles thinks he might be going crazy, because Erik looks at him with what seems to be reluctant fondness.
The new starship is what could only be described as a hunk of junk. It's nothing at all like the sleek ships Erik is used to flying, a fact which he continually comments on. Charles doesn't really care about the state of the ship. At least it's fast.
"If you dislike it so much," Charles finally interjects, "why in the world did you pick this one? There were plenty of others in the docking bay."
Erik is quiet, considering his answer. It's a habit he has, not to just blurt out the thoughts that skim the outermost edges of his mind. "This one," he says, patting the metal hull absently, "just felt right. I don't know how to explain it." He trails off.
Charles nods, not because he understands, but because he's fascinated at this new aspect of Erik's Force-abilities.
"You don't understand, do you?" Erik says, amused.
Charles just shrugs, chuckling. "I admit that I can't quite grasp the idea that ships can have…feelings, did you say?"
"It's not feelings exactly," Erik corrects him. "It's more of a sense of soundness and security. The metal feels stronger and sturdier. There's a sense of confidence about it. That's what you look for when picking a reliable ship."
"You mean it's what you look for when you go starship-shopping," Charles smiles. "Not all of us have the ability to talk to metal."
Erik flashes him a quick grin and fiddles with the controls for awhile. Then he asks, cautiously, as if he thinks Charles might not want to talk about it, "And your power?"
"What about it?" Charles asks warily. For all that the Force has tossed their fates together, he still doesn't know whether he can trust Erik, for all the cautiously shared laughter and the companionably silent drinks in the deepness of space.
"Are you afraid of your power?"
Afraid of his power? Charles doesn't remember when he hasn't had his power, when it hadn't been as natural to him as breathing. He supposes that such a time must have existed, but if it had, it had been insignificant. He tells Erik so.
Erik lifts an eyebrow. "The way you react when you see that I had felt your mind reaching out made me think…"
"Ah," Charles says, feeling embarrassed but not knowing why. "It's more that other people are afraid of my power."
Erik's brow knits together slightly in consternation. "But what does that have to do with you?"
"I can't go around hearing people's thoughts if they're uncomfortable with it," Charles says.
"Why not?"
"Because it's not right!"
"Charles," Erik says, "There's nothing wrong with using your power."
"I do use my power," Charles begins, but Erik waves a hand in dismissal.
"Yes, you do, consciously," he says. "But the power is a part of us, we can't simply control it. Yes, I use my anger to shape it when necessary, but that's just for intentional use. At any other given time, my awareness is all around me, feeling the metal nearby."
Charles frowns. "But minds are not metal, Erik."
"They are the touchstones of your power, as metal is to mine."
"So you're saying that I should release control, and just touch, all the time?"
Erik nods and Charles feels an overwhelming desire to give in, to allow himself that all the time, to step in and out of other people's minds as is his right.
No.
"I won't," Charles says. Erik looks at him long and hard and seems to decide to concede the point for now. Charles has no doubt that this is something he won't let go of.
They sit in silence for a long time afterwards, staring at the stars, lost in their own thoughts.
As much fun as this little adventure in space has been, what with the escaping from the star destroyer, the borrowing of a starship, the visits to deserted planets, and the long philosophical discussions, Charles knows that it cannot continue. The empire must surely be looking for them still, and also knows that they cannot evade whoever the emperor's sent after them forever, not with the resources their pursuers will have at their disposal.
"I've been thinking," Charles begins.
Erik looks up from where he's preparing their meal. Same fare as always: pre-made travel packages of food in what the labels claim are different flavors but all taste the same to Charles. "You do that too much," Erik says, the quirk of his lips threatening to turn into a real smile, but he looks expectant.
"We need to find a safe place to hide," Charles says, and watches as the almost-smile slides off Erik's face.
"Got somewhere in mind, do you?" Erik asks in a tone that says he already knows the answer to his question.
Charles forges on, undeterred. "My temple. It has resources and people there."
Sometimes he forgets that Erik is—was—a Sith lord, and that being such a servant of the Dark is not something someone can throw off lightly. The Force around them snarls as it darkens and Charles stops himself from taking a step back at the look on Erik's face. He looks Dark, in a way that he never has before.
"Erik," Charles says sharply. "Calm your mind."
When Erik—no, this is Darth Magnetus—turns to consider him, Charles feels the weight of the Dark side pushing insistently on his own mind.
"Calm. Your. Mind," he says, digging in his mental heels and refusing to let the Dark in or move him back an inch. "Erik."
At the sound of his name, Erik gives a violent shudder and the Dark fades slowly fades away.
"The Sith don't like the Jedi much," Erik says finally by way of apology.
"I understand that. What I don't understand is why you don't want to come," Charles says, frustrated. "There's good people there who'll want to help y—"
"Because I'm not a good person Charles!" Erik rounds on him furiously. He visibly checks himself.
Charles is unfazed by his sudden loss of temper. Temper he can deal with. "Erik?" Charles asks quietly.
Erik looks as miserable as Charles has ever seen him. "Just look. It'll be quicker," he says. "Then decide whether you still want me at your temple."
Charles eyes him thoughtfully before putting two fingers to his head and closing his eyes. He slips into the memory Erik offers him.
…
"Emma tells me there were two boys with the telepath," Shaw says, pacing in a slow circles around Erik. Erik doesn't move from where he's kneeling on the ground, head bowed. Inside, though, he's trembling with hate and fear and shame at his inability to do anything other than tricks when Shaw orders him to.
"I followed your orders," Erik says stiffly, and braces himself when Shaw's footsteps stop behind him.
"Two more Force users," Shaw muses, as if Erik hadn't spoken. The footsteps resume, but Erik doesn't relax.
"Do you know what Emma told me?" Shaw asks conversationally. He touches Erik's shoulder lightly and sends him flying across the room into a wall. "She says that his mind was bright like fresh snow. I think I'm going to enjoy twisting this one. To take all that light, and streak it through with darkness..."
Erik struggles to his feet and Shaw casually knocks him to the floor again.
"You will 'escape' with the telepath. Contact me when you have the location of their temple," Shaw says, looking down at him.
Erik stares at him, a long buried spark of defiance flaring up. Something must have shown in his eyes, because Shaw smiles slowly.
There's a sudden crushing pressure on his windpipe. Erik's chest heaves as he struggles for breath but still he refuses to say anything. If anything, Shaw's smile grows wider as he grinds his boot harder onto Erik's neck.
Finally, the edges of his vision turning black, Erik's deeper survival instincts kick in and he wonders just why he's protecting these Jedi, these people he's never met, these 'good people' who stood by and did nothing while his own people burned, his parents executed in front of his seven year old eyes because he couldn't do something so simple as to move a coin, because he failed them.
He looks away. "Yes, master," he croaks out with the last of his breath.
Shaw keeps his boot there a second longer than strictly necessary before the pressure's abruptly gone and Erik is lying alone in the chamber, shaking and gasping for breath, a familiar curl of shame in the pit of his stomach.
...
Charles falls out of Erik's mind to find the man staring at him intently.
"I'm so sorry Erik," he gasps out and Erik's expression morphs to confusion. Charles doesn't think it's the right time for a conversation about Erik's past. But he does know one thing: he won't let Shaw hurt Erik again.
"We don't turn anyone away," Charles says finally. Erik huffs out a breath and relaxes, imperceptible except for the fact that he's leaning against Charles slightly.
"Good," he says, and it's decided.
"Have you thought about what I said?" Erik says out of the blue, wandering into the kitchen where Charles is sitting.
"You're going to have to give me a little more than that, Erik."
"About using your powers."
"I have," Charles says. And Charles has, despite years of determinedly not thinking about it. He's gone over all the angles of the issues and has wondered, more than once, what it would be like if he just let his tightly reined in power go.
"And?" Erik prompts him when Charles has been silent for too long.
"I don't know," he admits. Erik nods.
"Just try it," he says after a moment. "There's no one here but us, anyways."
Against his better judgment, Charles relents.
He lets go.
And for the first time in for as long as he can remember, Charles breathes, and he sees.
The Force seems brighter somehow, as if all that time he had been feeling it through tinted glass. Nearby is the familiar—and Force forbid there be a day that Charles finds darkness familiar, but it seems that today is that day—darkness that is Erik. But his mind isn't Dark, Charles finds as he explores the edges. It's like light that's tainted with darkness. Twisted together beyond separation.
But not beyond saving.
You have don't need to deny yourself your power, Erik thinks at him, sensing Charles's elation at being able to let his power go. You could have this all the time.
"And your mind?" Charles wonders aloud.
"It's yours," Erik says sincerely, and there's an intensity in not just his gaze but his entire being that should burn Charles but warms him instead. "For as long as you want it."
"One thing more," Charles says reluctantly when they finally arrive at the temple. "It'd be best if you wore a power dampener until I speak with the rest of the team. As an, ah, sign of good faith."
Erik tries to hide his flinch and almost succeeds. The air of suspicion around the temple grows the longer Erik hesitates.
"Fine," he finally says, and Charles lets out a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding.
It's alright, he thinks to the team. He's agreed to wear a dampener.
Oh, there are so many things that are not alright with this, Raven shouts back.
But the door opens despite her admittedly valid complaints and Hank walks out with the dampener. Charles sees him and Erik size each other up and hurriedly intervenes.
"I'll take that Hank, thank you."
Hank nods and backs up a couple of paces but doesn't return to the temple as Charles had hoped he would.
Erik ducks his head and allows Charles to fasten it, inhaling sharply when it clicks shut. I trust you, he thinks at Charles, and Charles can tell how much it costs him to admit it, how fragile he's made himself just by acknowledging it.
"Hank will take you to your room," Charles says, ignoring Hank's horrified thoughts at the order, hoping he wouldn't protest aloud.
Hank just inclines his head, thankfully, murmuring, "Yes, Master."
Charles sends a wave of reassurance when Erik flinches involuntarily at the honorific.
"A word with you," Raven demands when he walks into the temple—home, finally.
The few people meandering nearby scatter.
"Are. You. Insane!" Raven hisses as soon as they're alone. "Do you even know who that is?"
"This is the welcome I get?" Charles asks wryly, "And I know very well who he is."
"I don't think you do," Raven mutters.
Despite her outrage, he suddenly finds himself with his arms around her as she weeps into his shoulder. "I was so worried," Raven mumbles into his shoulder. "When they said you'd been captured..."
"I'm back now," Charles reassures her, hugging her more tightly. He waits until he can't hear the sniffling sounds she's muffling in the cloth of his clothing before speaking again.
"Erik helped me."
Raven steps back from him, eyes narrowed. "Erik? So he's Erik now, is he?"
Charles sighs. "It's not what you think."
"Because he's an evil dark lord who could possibly murder us all in very painful ways in our sleep and you know that and you would never do something so irresponsible as to hook up with someone like that?" Raven asks sweetly.
"No," Charles says, looking at her in askance.
Raven just shrugs and hugs him again. "I'm glad you're safe, Charles," she says. "Just make sure you stay that way."
"I'll try," Charles says and she releases him.
"'Do or do not; there is no try,'" she says and he stares at her.
"That's surprisingly deep for someone who I remember sleeping through all her philosophy classes," Charles tells her.
"It's a quote, stupid," Raven laughs and then swears as they hear a distant chiming. "I'll see you later, okay?"
"Of course," he says, and watches her dart through the Jedi walking the corridor. He hesitantly lets his awareness wash over the entire temple, letting its comforting presence, the brightness of the Force around it—save in one room—fill his mind. It feels like home.
Having Erik at the temple is an experience to say the least. Charles has to tell the Council who Erik had been, of course, and sitting through that meeting hadn't been fun. Introducing Erik to them the next day hadn't been fun either.
The other Jedi haven't been told, for general security's and peace of mind's sakes, but the temple is alive with rumors nonetheless. "We're not usually this…gossipy," Charles tries to tell Erik as they walk together. He hasn't been spending as much time with Erik as he would like, caught up as he has been with meetings and paperwork and teaching duties. Sometimes he suspects that the Council is deliberately trying to keep him away from Erik. Which is completely counter-productive, he thinks to himself crossly. And to avoid thinking about why else he thinks spending time in Erik's company is a very good thing.
"It's fine," Erik assures him, eyes roaming restlessly around the peaceful garden. At least it's quiet here—
There's a sudden squeal as the children playing nearby catch sight of them and freeze in terror.
"Maybe you shouldn't scowl so much," Charles suggests.
"This is my normal expression, Charles," Erik says grouchily.
"Don't look so angry then," Charles says in exasperation. "Smile."
Erik grumbles something under his breath but grudgingly bares his teeth in the most terrifying rendition of a grin Charles has ever seen.
The children flee.
"Never mind," Charles says, as they watch them run away. Erik's scowl is firmly fixed on his face again. "Scowl all you want."
…
Raven and the rest of the team aren't being cooperative either.
"Last time I saw him," Alex says, "he had just dragged our ship back from outer space and taken you prisoner."
"We were only in the atmosphere," Charles tries.
"Don't you think it's a little suspicious that he just decided to help you escape after capturing you in the first place?" Sean puts in, and they all nod in agreement.
"Erik has not given us a reason to distrust his intentions," Charles says firmly, but he knows that his team will not be swayed. They have good instincts though, as their suspicions are entirely correct, as Erik himself revealed to Charles, but he thinks he'll keep that to himself for the time being.
…
All in all, Charles has had a very trying week. Erik's relationship with the Jedi has not progressed much, especially since the Council are resolved to distrust him. Because of this Charles has to go through several psychology tests to make sure he is sound and has his judgment intact.
He returns to his room late one night—so late that he may as well call it morning—to try to catch some sleep before he has to get up and deal with yet another meeting and finds Erik waiting there for him.
Charles stops short, his sleep-deprived brain unable to process why Erik is sitting in his bed reading Charles's favorite book. Actually, it would probably be difficult to process the situation whatever his mental state.
"You overwork yourself, Charles," Erik says calmly, as if it's perfectly normal for him to be in Charles's room, in Charles's bed. But Charles is too tired to deal with whatever it is going on and he just shrugs off his tunic and stumbles into sleepwear and collapses onto his bed. Erik doesn't budge and for all intents and purposes appears to be reading again.
Charles wants to tell him to turn off the light but he can't muster up the energy. He also wants to tell him to leave but can't come up with a reason.
He must've nodded off at some point thinking about why Erik really shouldn't be there and why Charles is strangely okay with it because the next time he opens his eyes, the chamber is dark and Erik is nowhere to be found. Charles himself is tucked under the covers. He runs his hand over the warm blanket covering him and smiles to himself as he falls back asleep.