Memories

Chapter Thirteen

"So, how many does that make it?" Erik asked with a slight smile. An attempt at some form light-hearted of conversation.

"Twelve, if you count Logan," Charles replied reluctantly, seeing no harm in telling him. Erik whistled lowly, clearly impressed. Erik hadn't gained any new members except Emma since that fateful day that seemed like a lifetime ago. In a way, it was a lifetime ago.

"I'm impressed, Charles. You seem to be really putting in the effort," Erik said.

"Yes, well, someone has to," Charles said, and Erik raised an eyebrow at the hateful tone, Erik's hand drifting away from Charles's. Charles didn't let the image the crowd saw of two men simply sitting in chairs, talking without touching, waver. Charles did groaned, though, hitting his head on the table in misery. "You seem to bring out the worst in me," Charles muttered dismally, causing Erik to chuckle.

"It's only fair, considering..." Erik replied, trailing off at the end and making a motion to Charles's legs. Charles slowly sat up, biting back any bitter comment that tried to bubble up in his throat.

"Why are you here, Erik?" Charles emitted with a sigh of exasperation. His patience was wearing thin, and he could feel the anxiety of his family. He needed to get back to them soon.

"I told you- I wanted to talk to you. I've missed you... I even...miss your presence in my mind," Erik admitted reluctantly, not one to admit many things on how he felt.

"You shut me out, Erik, remember?" Charles retorted, tapping his temples as he glared at the offensive object on Erik's head. "We should play chess again; I quite liked the challenge," Erik said, completely ignoring Charles's statement.

"Come home, and we can," Charles replied lightly, smiling. He missed their chess games, too. It'd been years since he'd had a real match until he'd met Erik. Erik was a challenge. He was intelligent, unrelenting, and he didn't become overwhelmed when Charles gained the upper hand. Erik would bide his time until he saw his opportunity.

Much like he'd done to find Charles.

"You know I can't do that, Charles," Erik said, genuine regret and sadness in his eyes. "Erik, we both know you can do anything you set your mind to," Charles replied, a bitter smirk playing on his lips. Erik emitted a humorless chuckle as the mall's clock tolled, telling all of its patrons that it had struck four o'clock.

"How have you been adapting? You have a beard now," Erik observed, changing the subject. He was hoping that Charles would say those magical words- that he missed Erik. That's what Erik longed to hear- he'd been craving Charles's presence, mentally and physically, for months, and he needed to know that Charles had missed him even a fraction of the same amount.

"I'm adapting, and I haven't felt the need to shave," Charles grumbled through gritted teeth. Lies slip easily through Charles's throat now. He'd been telling lies for months.

The truth is the hardest to admit.

Erik covered up the pain that followed Charles's reply. It was like Charles had punched him- a quick, hard jab right to the stomach. His chest tightened and his heart squeezed, as if Charles had reached into Erik's own rib cage, gripped his heart like a vice, and wrenched Erik's heart for the fun of it.

Erik wasn't as good as he thought at covering up his emotions. Charles saw the brief flash of pain in Erik's beautiful blue-grey eyes. Charles's gut tightened and twisted, guilt eating away at him slowly.

"I really must be going." Charles said, making a motion to roll away from the table. "Please, Charles, stay. Just a moment longer," Erik said, giving a small wave of his hand to halt Charles's backward moment. Another wave of his hand, and Charles was rolled back up to the table without a single motion of Charles's own hands.

Erik was keeping him there.

"Erik, you can't keep me here. I have responsibilities," Charles snapped, anxiety clawing up his throat. He felt like his throat was constricting, not allowing for air to fill his lungs.

"I just need to know one thing- one simple thing." Erik said, his voice bridging on hysteria. Desperation was clear in his body-language. Charles's muscles contracted as the onset of panic crept up on him, stealing his remaining mobility that hadn't already been taken from him. "What? What is so important?" Charles hissed, gripping his wheelchair armrests tightly.

"Did you miss me? Did you care at all about me? Did my leaving affect you at all?" Erik asked desperately, unable to restrain himself as his self-control crumbled under the force of his emotions that were washing over him and drowning him.

Charles, panicked, looked at the surrounding crowd to see who might be overhearing. Then, he remembered. He wasn't letting anyone really hear what has happening. He'd forced their minds to tune out, their eyes to look away. The image he'd created was wavering due to stress, but still stood. No one could hear them. So, he let Erik have it.

"Of course I did, Erik! I wasn't the one that left! But I'm moving on- something you should think about doing," Charles hissed, his voice dripping with venom.

"Don't. Don't say that," Erik replied, his voice tight and shaking, barely audible to even Charles as Erik looked away. Erik was clenching his fists on the table. Charles either needed to defuse the situation or get Erik out of here quickly. He couldn't control flying metal.

"Please, Erik, calm down," Charles said, grabbing Erik's hand to try to sooth him. "You stole away my relief. You rob me of any joy. You steal my breath, the very lungs I need to breathe, and you have no remorse for that," Erik gritted out, his throat constricting with emotion.

"Your relief?" Charles asked, confused. "You missed me- you said so yourself- but you added a bite to it right after," Erik said miserably as way of explanation. Charles swallowed hard.

"And the rest?" Charles struggled out, barely able to breathe. Erik finally looked at him again, tears in his eyes. A sad smile crossed his features, softening his normally harsh facials. "You're my joy, but you're cruel. Your words hurt, but you just keep on going, unheeding of the wounds you leave behind," Erik replied, bitter sadness coating his words.

"But Erik... You cannot blame me for that. You left first," Charles said gently, not willing to let Erik off easily. Charles needed to disillusion Erik.

At Erik's pained look, Charles wondered if that was true. It would be so easy to take Erik into his arms again. Knock off his helmet and take control of Erik's mind. Drag him home again and lock him up, keeping him all to himself until he could convince Erik that Charles was too good to leave again.

"I have to go, Erik." Charles quickly rolled away, Magneto not having enough strength of will to stop him from leaving this time.

Charles joined his family in the limousine, clutching the twins to him with tears collecting in his eyes, unbidden. But Charles refused to let them fall as he petted the white-haired head and brunette hair.