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gold-from-straw · 5 years

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First Forever - ch3

Chapter 3/10 of the @fth2019fanworks fic for @soveryaverageme - this chapter has warnings for grief, non-graphic references to past violence and child abuse, and Charles being generally terrified of conflict..

Read from the start on AO3 if you like!

Charles heard Erik’s furious thoughts before he let himself into Erik’s apartment, and as soon as he heard the almost incoherent rage, he stopped, his keys halfway to the lock. He stood there for a long moment, his heart pounding, his panic high in his throat, and considered running. Not even permanently, just running, hiding on a park bench until Erik’s fury subsided.

“You’re an adult,” Charles told himself sternly, his voice only shaking a little. “You’re the most powerful telepath in a generation, you could hold Erik still with a single thought, and you will, no matter how much you love him. No-one is ever going to treat you like them ever again. No-one has been able to hurt you for years.”

Besides, he thought, running and hiding from Kurt had only ever served to focus his fury on a more inventive punishment.

Charles pushed the door open and the full force of Erik’s grief and fury and pain hit him like a physical thing. Charles’ power slipped into Erik’s mind and memories ruthlessly, secretively, peering into his private thoughts for his own safety. Flashes of blood-family-Shaw-revenge almost brought Charles to his knees, and he wanted to gather Erik up in his arms and hold him, even as all his defensive instincts knew to run, run far away from an angry person. Because it could always, somehow, be made Charles’ fault.

Erik slapped the phone down on the table and it crumpled under the force of his rage, glass shattering as the metal came together into a ball, the rubble vibrating on the table. Erik turned away and leaned on the kitchen counter, his back a row of tension.

“Erik,” said Charles softly, walking nearer, his mind a whirl of panic alongside Erik’s incoherent grief and fury. But under Charles’ fear was the need to see Erik safe and loved. “Erik, love--”

Erik spun around to him, breathing hard, and Charles tensed, waiting for the onslaught. But Erik was in his arms, long body crumpling like the phone, and every inch of him was grief.

“Oh, my love,” Charles whispered, clutching him, stroking his hair as memories surrounded him. Not just blood and fear and loss, but kind faces and love and Shabbat dinner. Erik wept and clutched at Charles tightly with his arms and a strand of thought that begged for home.

“I’m so sorry, my darling,” Charles whispered, his throat tight with tears. “I’m so sorry I can’t take you home.”

He tugged Erik to the bedroom and somehow manoeuvred him under the comforter. Erik pressed his face into Charles’ shoulder, his body wracked with sobs, and Charles clung to him and wished he knew how to comfort someone.

He thought back, following a trail of warmth in his own memories, to when he was fifteen and caught unaware by a backhand from Kurt. Raven had found him, scared and sniffling, laid his head on her lap and shifted into Ella Fitzgerald’s copy, singing as she stroked his hair.

“Summertime, and the living is easy.”

Charles closed his eyes, tears sliding out the corners to soak his hair at his temples, and pulled the memory forward and out, trying to blanket Erik with it.

“Fish are jumping and the cotton is high.”

Erik pressed closer, and Charles saw his best memories rising, drawn by Charles’. A dark haired, wide-eyed woman with a smile that made them both ache, a stoic, soft-spoken man whose arms defined security.

“Your daddy is rich, and your momma’s good lookin’, so hush little baby, don’t you cry.”

***

“It was a home invasion,” said Erik, his voice rough and thick. “When I was fifteen. This bastard, Shaw… he’d done it before, it wasn’t a robbery to him.” Erik closed his eyes, but Charles stared up at the ceiling, Shaw’s cruelty and sadism painted red across his mind.

“It’s how my powers manifested,” Erik said. “Just… just too late for my parents. I nearly killed Shaw, but the police…” he laughed, bitter. “Well, they were too late to save anything that mattered.”

Charles kissed him on the top of the head, pressed him close. Erik took a deep breath. “He’s dead now,” he said. “They called me… he died in prison. I’ll never…” He shuddered, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I’ll never get to kill him myself.”

Charles held him through the storm and horror, into the night, until he fell asleep, his dreams dark. Charles stayed awake and tried to make a landscape for him, a field in the sunshine, drawing Erik out of his own horror, into a manufactured attempt at peace.

Erik lay down next to him in the grass. “Is this a dream?”

“Of a sort,” Charles said, taking his hand. “It’s a place I’ve made for you in my head so you don’t have to be in yours right now.”

Erik smiled, leaned over and kissed him. “That’s the most thoughtful thing anyone’s ever done for me. Quite literally,” he teased.

Charles rolled his eyes and kissed him back, then pulled away, biting his lip. “I went into your head earlier. I’m sorry. When I first came home. I just… I thought you should know.”

Erik tilted his head. “Why are you sorry? You’re a telepath, that’s what you do.”

“I know you want me to stay out, though--”

“What? When did I say that?” Erik laughed.

“When we first met - I must admit, I was very clumsy with you, trying to show off at first, and then reading that you wanted to take me out for Italian.”

Erik chuckled and lay back, closing his eyes in the sunshine. “I remember that. I honestly don’t remember telling you to stay out of my head, though. I mean, I don’t want you to read every little thought and memory I’ve ever had, or we’ll never need to talk. And I like talking to you.” He turned his head to press a kiss to Charles’ hair and they lay in silence, Erik drifting off to sleep while Charles tried to restructure all his internal rules and boundaries.

He can’t have meant that, Charles thought at last. Or he wouldn’t, if he knew just how much Charles always pried into his mind - into everyone’s. But all of a sudden, Charles wanted it - wanted to be trusted and welcomed into Erik’s mind, but to trust him enough that he never had to look.

Gaaaah thank you for your lovely comments/likes/reblogs!! Tagging everyone who interacted ^_^ @misti0usly, @liss-vyrt-rock, @knightsobsidian, @legolokili, @butterflywithwritersblock, @charliedraconis, @reginaanicula, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan, @countrygalxmarvel, @longkissgoodnightbatmanandtwofac, @akasanata, @ikeracity, @a-stranger-song, @whisperasphodel, @ajcila, @baskakovaam, @ichweissnichtauch, @user-tired, @mathmusicreading, @chocolatechipbagel, @malunedita, @haylieng, @auri-moon, @devilstrill16, @dragontamerm, @inevermakethesamemistaketwice, @fassymioamor8 (omg I SUCK SO BAD at notes I’m sorry for not replying!! Thank you!) @fanofblogs, @tenzou-taichou, @iwillshipyouman

#My writing #First Forever #cherik #Charles Xavier #Erik Lehnsherr #fandom trumps hate 2019 #modern au #still have powers #self esteem issues #trust issues #past abuse #grief #emotional hurt/comfort

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