Come Home (Cherik fanfiction)

Chapter Nine

Erik

He couldn't do much but gap at Charles when he stormed int he room. He had been planning to talk to Charles -- calmly and kindly -- once he woke up. And that was another thing; he had been planning on being there when Charles woke up. He had been on his way, actually, before Raven pulled him into the Inbox Room in, what must have been, the middle of their conversation.

But now he was here and gaping at a half-awake, flustered, angry Charles with his blue eyes drooping and his thick hair tousled and messed. That image alone put thoughts he couldn't account for into his mind and a bad taste -- that felt so good -- into his mouth. He was moving before he knew what was happening and, before things went too far, he had pulled up a seat next to Charles's bed.

And all illusions were shattered when Charles opened his mouth with that sour-candied smile and spoke to Erik in a tone so harsh, he wasn't sure if Emma wasn't speaking through him.

But it wasn't Emma and he knew that. He would know the difference by now -- should know the difference by now. And, he should have been expecting some sort of passive-aggressive hostility, (because Charles wasn't the calm saint Erik had once assumed -- at least not completely) but it still stung like a son-of-a-bitch.

He winced internally but showed nothing, aside from pursed lips and a grim line for a mouth.

"Good morning Charles. Did you sleep well?" he asked good-heartedly, in the same way he had been practising on all night.

Of course the night before, he had been practising on a throw-pillow, not Charles.

He had been planning all night on what he was going to say and how, but now that he was actually there, he could nothing but gap at Charles and shout mental prayers at him behind his helmet, pleading and kicking and screaming about how sorry he was.

He wanted to take the damn thing off and crumple it to pieces, but deep down inside -- despite the fact that he trusted Charles with his life -- he knew he needed it. He needed to shield Charles form his darker thoughts and from the truth about why he was here. Because, if he was being honest, there was a bigger reason why he needed Charles so badly and why he would take Charles's hate over silence any day. It was just that he wasn't ready to explore that reason just quite yet and he didn't need Charles poking at it with his stick of self-righteous experience and hero-complex.

Charles scoffed, pulling Erik from his thoughts. "A Telepathic-induced sleep always does leave one refreshed and ready for the day."

Again, Erik registered this distantly and still took it like a blow. This wasn't his Charles. Erik didn't know where he went, but this wasn't him.

"Well I'm glad." he kept up his bleak and forced facade.

Charles just rolled his eyes. "Great. Now that we're done being civil, can you explain to me why the hell I'm here?"

Erik raised a mocking eyebrow. "Who says that we don't have to be civil?"

Charles looked at him pointedly. "Possibly because -- oh, I don't know -- I'm your prisoner?"

Erik tilted his head to the side. "Charles, you are not an enemy. Why would you be a prisoner to a friend?"

Charles pursed his lips, looking thoroughly disgusted. "Am I allowed to leave?"

There was an obvious silence where Charles obviously wanted an answer and Erik obviously didn't have one.

After thinking of different deflections, Erik decided that, if Charles asked him, he probably would let him go.