More than anything, Charles missed his bathroom. Now, sharing living space with Erik, he realized all of the sudden that his clothes are asking to be burned, his hair was sticky with blood and grease and Raven had playfully pushed him to the ground, so that he could be smeared in mud on the top of that. Erik didn't want to let him bath in the pond alone. He offered to stand on guard. Strangely, Erik's offer, by no means reasonable and polite, made him uncomfortable. Charles lightly assured Erik that he'll be fine. Come to think of it, he has Raven now and Raven was a formidable bodyguard.

'Really, Erik. I'm not an invalid,' Charles response was more emotional than necessary, but he noticed that Erik, whatever his reasons were, was fretting over too much.

He's got a sharp look in response.

'I didn't mean…' talking to Erik when he was wearing this guarded expression was not an easy task. Charles didn't know what he was doing wrong, but Erik practically emanated don't-get-too-close aura and Charles was silently suffering in bewilderment. Erik shouldn't be this tense around him, or, maybe, his decision to bring Charles here was spontaneous and now Erik regrets it, but… No! He's driving himself mad with those useless musings. Anyway, Charles isn't in the position to complain.

He apologized to Erik and thanked him for everything several times. It was important for Charles, that Erik understood – he realizes what had Erik to do in order to save him… And, well, he stifled a weary sigh. Maybe, Erik will finally stop watching him as if he could die on the spot. Does he really look that helpless and pathetic?

'Sorry for that,' added Charles nervously biting the lower lip.

Erik's eyes visibly darted to his mouth.

'I was told, that I shouldn't be allowed to speak,' he chuckled and blurted out, 'so, please, my friend, don't mind me. Not literally, but… I just…'

Erik took in his troubled state and – oh wonder – smiled. His gaze, so fierce and determined, has shifted minutely and Charles saw it one more time – the generous, kind and caring light in his eyes.

Words vanished from his mind and he felt his expression melting under that look.

Erik was a wonderful friend. By no means. Privately, Charles, who always had this habit of daydreaming, was harboring a dream, a fantasy. What if Erik was his brother, instead of Cane, of course. What if they grew together, even in that old mausoleum? So nice. It'd have been so nice!

By the way, here he frowned - he still doesn't know what's Erik doing here and where do his incredible skills come from. Hardly befitting a gentleman, but someone who knows jungles… as if was born and bred here. Charles had some theories. But, truth be told, Erik was not willing to share. Charles was rather proud of his persistence. He'll be patient and in time…

'Hmm… I reckon, I need to tell you everything that happened since our last meeting.'

He wasn't fidgeting. He really was not.

Erik nodded in agreement.

'All right. We need to eat, I'll make dinner, but if you need something…'

'Yes, I know. I know,' Charles quickly reassured Erik.

He needed privacy and he got it. What a relief!

By the house, Charles stumbled upon those flowers which Moira showed him on his first day in Africa. How long hadn't he seen her and boys… He chased the thought away and bent to pick some up. His body still ached all over – bruises not only visible, but phantom as well. Charles tried, he tried so hard not to slip in Erik's presence – like he did that time he first opened his eyes, saw Erik and thought he'd been hallucinating.

Physically he was recovering fast. He must admit that dizziness and lightheadedness didn't fade away completely, not to mention his useless right hand and more than painful wound on his chest. Burn was now his biggest concern. Carefully, he splashed warm water, trying to avoid it. He crashed the petals and with this hand-made soap washed his hair. He took his time until he felt satisfied with himself. Charles had the right to be proud. He washed and mended his clothes – Erik generously provided him with some sewing notions; he even borrowed an old razor, secretly of course, and managed to cut himself only once and it was a little scratch, really.

Charles came back from the pond practically glowing with joy – learned to find it in the most usual places – without this ability he won't be able to survive, he reflected.

Erik was arranging the make-shift dinner and Charles noticed that he was doing something he wasn't used to. Does he eat raw meat or what – mused Charles and stopped in his tracks. No, can't be. He nervously squinted at Erik. Impossible. Although, it was another one of many questions he wanted to ask.

In the evening, they were sitting in the house with Charles leaning on the headboard while Erik was treating the burn. The heady smell of salve was acting like morphine on Charles' nerves. He decided to start and then he couldn't stop. Erik never uttered a word. Charles told everything: starting with a mysterious watch, long forgotten legends, his suspicions concerning Logan and their journey. He mentioned lady Frost and Erik raised one elegant eyebrow in silent question. Then, it was more difficult to continue. Charles took a deep breath and explained why he decided to leave the watch to Sean. He stopped telling about Shaw's fight with Logan – his throat hurt being strained for too long.

Erik didn't express his impatience or annoyance while Charles was hissing apologies and drinking water. Dark look descended upon his face when Charles was telling about captain Shaw and his abilities – Erik didn't need to be told how he found out about them.

'Nature hides lots of mysteries, my friend; some are well beyond our comprehension. If I could observe the effect of his power a little bit longer, perhaps I would be able to state or to …'

'Charles.'

'Well, right. That's all. Now I have to figure out what to do. Can't leave Henry, Moira and boys to fend for themselves. If only…' he awkwardly cleared his throat. 'I just ask, never insist, because I possess little understanding of such matters – traces and jungles, and so on. Even if I dared, I don't know where to begin with. Could you help me to find them and bring them back to safety?'

'Charles, it isn't the matter of discussion. I won't let you wander in jungles alone.'

There was a clear dismissal in Erik's tone.

Words which left Charles were solemnly to add to the spirit of contradiction – a no-good habit of childhood years.

'Oh, really?' sarcasm came easy to him. 'Erik, we're both adults. Why do you think that you're entitled to make decisions for me?'

Erik gritted his teeth. Charles touched a nerve.

'Someone has to do it. To decide.'

'Erik,' all fight suddenly evaporated and he almost pleaded, 'they are my friends, this is important.'

'You don't own these people anything. Where were they when you needed their help?'

'For god's sake, Erik, I cannot abandon Moira like that, and Logan would've risen from the dead if I let something happen to her. And there are also Sean and Alex…'

But Erik wasn't listening to him anymore. When Moira's name was uttered he stood up.

'I'm sorry if I…' abruptly Charles found himself tet-a-tet with empty chair, 'said something stupid again and… Therefore, I always…'

I always remain… alone – he finished to himself.

Erik was angry with Charles: Charles with his goddamn principles, Charles with his supernatural ability to get into trouble, Charles… who could bring to life those feelings that had remained extinct or never existed before. But most of all, Erik was angry with himself, because Erik Lensherr has behaved like a coward.

He should've realized from the very beginning – the night when they met like the most insane people in the world – in the waters of the Atlantic Ocean, hundred miles from the coast. When Charles was laughing, amused by his dry remarks and Erik was feeling slight warmth inside, when Erik made it a habit to turn around every time he heard the familiar accent, when every threat directed against Charles became his personal priority – all these times he should have realized.

That moment when Charles teasingly suggested that they may call the panther Raven, Erik was blinded by a realization. A few minutes went by and he did nothing but stared at smiling Charles.

He almost gave in to his desires – to take him in his arms and kiss, to hold him tight and never let go. And that's not enough. He would have made Charles his right there, on the grass. Erik barely kept himself in check while Charles was murmuring endearments to the panther.

Since then, he was noticing all little things which made Charles so Charles – the way his hair was curling when wet, how often he licked his lips, how funny he usually frowned, light freckles on his shoulders. This and so much more has swept his rational mind away. He stopped sleeping in the house, claiming that he sleeps better in the open. Erik was perfectly confident that these torments were fictional, appropriate for the stage and not for real life.

He was so afraid that something might happen to Charles. Soon after that, came jealousy. And it was unbearable.

Erik wanted all of him. Totally and unquestionably. Everything in Charles was appealing to him and fed his desire – the brilliance of his mind, his all-encompassing goodness, his heart – so compassionate and so unlike his own, his slender body – would feel so good, his incredible eyes, his soft voice and small habits and mannerisms – everything. Charles shook the fundaments of his life, destroyed the single purpose Erik came to the jungles with.

That's why, he was honestly terrified. And instead of behaving like Charles correctly observed – as an adult – Erik fled.

Charles was sitting on the footsteps leading to the house rubbing his forehead with his good hand, slightly rocking just at the spot. What had he done? How many times did he have to make the same mistake before he learned the lesson? He was damnably sorry, so sorry that this has happened.

Cain was absolutely right when he said that Charles would never get along with anybody. When they were still children, it sounded like a usual banal insult – his step brother failed to be inventive. But, so it goes, that Cain got straight to the point this time.

Charles would have left right now if he was elsewhere, not here – but… it would look like a ridiculous and childish temper tantrum, not to mention suicidal, at best. He decided that he'll wait until Erik comes back, beg forgiveness and then would ask for the last favor – to walk him to the edge of the forest, so that Charles could possibly find his own way and get to the nearest civilized settlement.

Black shadow, lurking behind the trees, glided towards him. Oh, this's Raven. She came closer, rubbed her head along his, prompting Charles to lower his arm. Even the panther sees how miserable he is right now. His throat constricted and Charles felt his eyes burning in a very tell-tale way. He is out of any capacity to hold himself together… so infernally exhausted. Charles buried his face in the warm fur and a sob escaped him. Screw it, no one will hear. How stupid of him – to cry out of self-pity. They remained on the same spot for about half an hour or so. Raven was growling softly and soon Charles began to calm down. It was getting dark – time to go inside.

Raven didn't want to join him – she wrapped her tail around his ankle in her own goodbye gesture, and quietly slipped back into the oncoming darkness.

Charles went in and closed the door after himself – now he felt as a stranger here, in Erik's house, and even familiar furniture was observing him with resentment. He tried to find a candle – Erik mentioned that there were some on the shelves – he started with the lower one and his hand brushed the metal case. It felt down with a loud bang and its contents scattered on the floor. Charles felt for a candle and lit it after three attempts. Sometimes he forgot, and awkwardly tried to take hold of things with his right - out of habit. Charles carefully hoisted the candle on the table and bent over the papers.

An old photograph caught his eye and Charles lifted it closer. Immediately, he was struck breathless when he saw captain Shaw and was it… Logan. Lord, it is at the very least forty years old. How…

He glanced at the article, evidently cut out of newspaper, and saw a headline – his German was definitely worse than his French – but Charles was able to read it – "Tragedy in Eisehardt family". Oh dear, he clenched poor piece of paper like a lifeline – something will shed light on Erik's past – not that it matters anymore - he bitterly thought.

There were someone's written notes among the papers. Different phrases in the articles were highlighted. Charles snatched a pencil, which has fallen out of the case and started to write his own short notes here and there. He was so absorbed in the task that he'd lost the track of time. There was a challenging riddle in front of his eyes and he dived into analyzing and comparing with passion of the man long starved. On the periphery of his mind he was frightened by the horrors that linked different facts together. Murders, kidnappings, theft, seemingly innocuous accidents were the part of one big puzzle. Activity of cults and religious organizations, recent terrorist attacks in Europe – everything led to the single party.

Charles leaned back wearily and closed his eyes for a brief moment – candle has almost burned to the hilt and the dying flame cast disturbing shadows on the walls. Why? He was always wondering… Why do people need to kill each other?... Just because they're different… madness. So much effort in order to do what – to start a war and … purify the world. Insane, they're absolutely mad. He shakily breathed in – somewhere deep inside his chest sticky horror was already clawing at him, begging to be let out.

The fading flame flared last time and vanished. Tropical night encompassed him at once – suddenly he felt cold. Single drop of sweat formed on his temple and slid down. Charles was overcome by a cowardly willingness to hide in the most remote corner of the world and wait till the storm dies out. But, he attempted a wry smile, he's currently in the right place – the trouble has caught up with him even here.

'Erik!?' Charles instantly rushed to the exit.

Sounds like Erik. As if he had called out Charles' name.

'Erik, wait! I'm coming!'

He'll put the papers in the case later.

Why is Erik calling him from the outside? Maybe, he's hurt – suddenly occurred to Charles. No, please no. In this case, he needs to hurry.

Raven jumped out of the dark growling. She tried to stand in his way and Charles nearly fell. What's wrong with her? She was always so friendly.

'Raven, calm down!' he said sternly. 'I'll go see to Erik and be back soon.'

When Charles realized that he was somehow standing in the depth of the forest without any idea how he got there - he was slightly worried. But Erik – he needs to go to Erik. There's no time to turn back. Raven ran ahead and Charles heard unusual overtones in her growling. She was scared.

We have found you. We have… It's time. He's coming…

Hands were touching him – he's too sleepy to react. What about Erik? – screamed the voice inside his head. Did he forget? Erik left him, unable to stand Charles' company anymore.

His awareness was slowly dissolving and the last thing he thought he heard – was an echo of the violent roar.

Emma held his forearms and didn't let him get away.

'Calm down, sugar. That's my boy!'

Sean turned as red as a lobster.

'Well, that's it. And you were worried,' Emma took off the flower crown from his head and tried it on. 'I don't like to wear something which is not perfectly arranged. One must look at it from all sides and then say a verdict.'

'As if someone will care how you look here,' this Moira has seriously come too far.

Emma pretended that she didn't hear.

'Today, we can rest. We have to replenish with food and water before we climb up there. Sean, why don't you join Alex and Logan?' Moira smiled to the boy.

'No,' redhead frantically shook his head, 'never! This is only a pretext to beat somebody up. Alex decided to learn how to fight, not me.'

Emma thoughtfully nodded. She guessed, this Logan fellow was beating up a guy just for fun. Men…

When they were sitting around campfire in the evening Logan reminded one more time:

'Remember, you do not step away from the group. Whatever happens - you stay put. Stay together! You may hear someone calling you – the voice of the person you want to hear the most – or it might be the child crying…'

He promptly looked in her direction. No way – bristled Emma. She will never fall for that.

'…killed half of our squad.'

Wait, she has missed something.

'Just a moment,' Emma interrupted him and was met with four confused and one irritated look. 'You assured me, that the tribe or the creatures inhabiting the Lost City are not that dangerous. Sebastian is on the top of scary. What else has changed?'

'Blonde, I won't repeat it personally…'

'My name is Emma. A few sounds, see. It has to be easy even for you.'

'Well, Emma, but you don't deny that you're the blonde…'

Emma would have cut his throat in his sleep ages ago, if she didn't know that it was useless.

'They're not people. White bastards,' shrugged Logan, 'yeah, they do resemble humans – two arms and legs, but you should've seen their eyes – pale and empty. One of them got into my head – I was sure that she was standing right in front of me again…'

Well, well, well… Isn't it amusing? Our savage misses mother or sister, or some woman, desperate enough to rise to the bait.

'We found them in the temple – bodies completely bloodless. No wounds aside from tiny cuts on the arms and neck – what I saw. Major blood vessels did the job.'

Red-head flinched.

'Their faces – you could never forget that expression if you saw it once – serenity, that's what I thought.'

Erik made up his mind. He will come back with the first rays of the sun. Will talk to Charles and let him decide. Maybe, he should bring something for him. A gift? It was so excruciating – to think all night long what to say and what to do. Not that Erik lacked experience in this department, but he didn't do much before. His silence was often taken for granted and he never paid it a thought. Obviously, he had no trouble – amorous encounters with both male and female came easy to him. That's always puzzled Erik – people had so much rules and taboos when it came to the most natural thing in the world.

Charles mentioned that he wanted to collect some plants peculiar for this region. He was speaking about the seeds – Erik wasn't sure, because Charles tended to forget where he was and, from time to time, hammered the person he was talking to with terms beyond understanding. Erik fell so deep, that he already found it endearing. He gathered the armful of flowers – rare orchids growing on the clearing which was hidden like the treasure among the dark mass of the forest. Charles, being a scientist, would appreciate that Erik brought him an interesting floral form. That's how he damped down the agitation.

Door was ajar and Erik hurried to get inside. First thing he noticed – papers scattered on the table. He put the flowers down and stared in disbelief. Was it a cause for concern? Erik felt at a loss. Charles has seen everything. What has he thought? Erik peered closer. Someone used his own notes and spare piece of paper to write – letters were legible and copperplate. Charles? Erik quickly looked through the rest and momentarily got distracted. Before his mind's eye, the distinct picture of large-scale conspiracy was taking shape. Charles began writing on the back of the photos; he circled names and put question marks. Some phrases were crossed out and labeled "deliberately distorted".

Erik would've fallen in love with Charles this instant, if he hadn't already occupied every corner of his mind and soul.

Where is he? Erik scanned the room and rushed outside. His sense of caution was dulled. Damn! He wouldn't do it. Charles is no fool to walk alone at night – as offended as he might be, after Erik has left.

He followed his traces to the north. Only… They were not fresh. Erik's inner world turned upside down the second time in two days. He ran like a madman – don't think, don't think what you will or won't find.

Raven? Panther stepped out from behind the tree limping heavily.

Erik smelled blood.