Charles was gone.
He'd given some dramatic speech listing the reasons on why they should stay, but here Erik was, holding his umbrella.
He wasn't sure why he felt so lonely. Three days now, and the rest of the X-Men couldn't find even but a trace of him. It was obvious that Charles had planned on leaving long before, as his short note left in the umbrella stated in uncharacteristically sloppy cursive.
'I'm sorry. I really do hope that you understand. It's for your safety, as well as the rest of the team.
This has been unavoidable for a while now. Please, take care of them.'
Erik wasn't sure why, but he felt lonely. None of the other X-Men he got along with, they were not nearly as pleasant–or smart or witty–as Charles was. He'd gotten close to him (obviously a grave mistake on his part, he couldn't afford to have such a serious emotional attachment now or ever- but their friendship was still somewhere between the lines of 'distant acquaintance' and 'frequent drinking buddy'). Nothing more, nothing less. At least, that's what he told himself.
"Gone," He mumbles, out of breath. "not here."
If there was one word he hated, it was 'sorry'. That implied there was something to be sorry about, or that someone felt bad and needed to tell someone else. He did think that an apology was good, but he believed that it was something you do in person; with actions, not words. But words were okay too. Especially if that meant Charles was coming back.
"Gone."
Eventually, Raven was the only one who really noticed. She checked on him every so often, when he was in his room for a long period of time, or when he stood out on the front lawn and happened to get lost in his thoughts. Vibrant blue soon became the only thing that helped the haze.
"You really shouldn't brood so much. It'll give you frown lines."
That made his mouth turn down. "Smiling is impractical at a time like this."
She looks guilty, and bends her head. "We can still look, you know,"
"It's been too long. He's smart. Probably left the country."
"Why?"
"You think I'd be standing here if I knew?" He snaps, making her flinch. "I just–I just don't understand why he'd...leave. I was his friend. I trusted him. We all did."
Raven pauses to rub her hands across her arms. "He was my friend too."
Erik closes his eyes, the cold sting of the wind making them water. "What are we going to do without him?"
She has no reply.
After a while, Erik leaves too. He has no reason to stay. Takes a flight to France, pays the rent for a tiny house on the edge of Toulouse (a city near the southern tip), and gets a low paying job. He's got the money, but nothing to do with his hands.
"You know, that umbrella looks a lot like the one I used to have–"
Erik tenses, taking another bite from his sandwich. "It used to belong to a dear friend of mine."
"What happened to him?"
"He left. Long ago."
"I'm sorry."
A piece of ham falls from between the loaf, and he finally takes the time to look at the man.
"You look exactly like him." Erik's tone hardens. "But that can't be possible, because my friend would've come back."
"I'm sorry."
"Stop–" His fingers clench. "saying sorry. Please." Erik pushes the chair away from the table, getting to his feet and looking down at his friend. "No. You left. You don't just get to say sorry."
"Okay. I won't."
So Charles does something worse. He leans forward, and hugs Erik.
That's what makes Erik realize that he much, much prefers actions to words.
