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Erik stands in front of a small headstone, clasping his hands together. He doesn’t hear Charles approach but his warmth appears at Erik’s back between one breath and the next all the same.
“This could have been avoided,” Erik says through clenched teeth, angry at a world that would let this happen. “Daniel lingered for three days before infection took him. There was time enough-”
“What is it you think that could have been done?” Charles asks gently. “None of us have the power-“
“None of us, I agree,” Erik interrupts, silencing Charles with a sharp snap of his hand. “But I can’t believe out there, somewhere there isn’t someone who does.”
“Out there?” Charles asks and then seems to understand what Erik is referring to. His face tracks towards the borders of the village, ringed in old growth, ancient trees reaching towards the sky. “Perhaps if we were lucky enough...“ Charles starts to say, contemplative.
“We can’t rely on luck for something like this,” Erik snaps and feels immediately bad for the way Charles flinches at his tone. He knows that Charles just wishes to protect them all, but the cost is starting to seem too high. Erik’s eyes track back to the small headstone before him, the brief words summarising a briefer life.
Daniel, seven years old.
It was the scream that woke him.
The others often joked that as Charles' sight dimmed, his ears grew keener. Charles himself tended to agree with them, thinking that perhaps he would hear a moth's wings beat from the other side of the village when his sight finally failed him completely. He knew though, wrenched from deep slumber as he was, that this was a sound loud enough for everyone to hear.
His suspicion was confirmed when Charles made it to the living space of his house and saw the dim outline of what he knew must be Sean at his doorway, one hand raised to rap on his screen and the cuff of a sleeve clasped between his teeth.
Charles couldn't actually see this much detail with his poor eyesight but he knew it was Sean's most common habit when stressed, which he always seemed to be of late.
"Yes, I heard it," Charles says in way of greeting, navigating the small living space expertly. It’s strange that his vision is always sharpest in the half-light of the almost-dawn. It’s like the light that is retreating from him faster each day robs objects of their definition, blurring their lines. "Are the children playing that infernal game again?"
"I don't know," Sean says and Charles swallows the stir of irritation at that. Sean is supposed to be on watch, sitting in the tower that overlooks the entirety of their village. He should know exactly what caused such a cry, not be hopping from foot to foot like a startled rabbit on Charles' porch. While the Elders are not in the village however, Charles and Erik seem to be the ones that everyone looks to for authority and Charles imagines that Sean didn't hesitate fleeing from the tower at that first piercing scream to Charles' house which was closest by a scant few yards.
Erik himself, speak of the devil, appears behind Sean's shoulder. He's rubbing at his face like he can clear the sleep from it just by dry-washing with his hands. "The sun isn't up and neither should anyone else,” he grunts. “This better be good."
"I think maybe the children are playing that damn game again," Charles says, hoping that's all it is. Erik's feet are bare against Charles' porch boards and the bottoms of his sleep pants are wet from the morning dew on the grass. Charles can't exactly see this, but he knows it anyway from the low grade grumbling that Erik is letting slip from his sleep addled brain.
Charles knows it's Forbidden, but he can't stop using his Affliction like most can. It's an unconscious thing to allow it to flesh out the world he can see less and less of like a fading photograph. He sometimes wonders if these little lapses in his concentration are the reason behind some of the attacks, even though Erik assures him after each one that he's never to blame.
He can't help feeling responsible.
"I'm going to skin them alive if that's the case," Erik growls. "If the Sentinels haven't first," he adds like an afterthought and Charles watches Sean's blurred shape flinch at their mention.
"Erik," Charles warns and gropes for his stick by the door, the last thing he puts down and the first thing he picks up when he enters or exits his house. Charles doesn't need to see Erik's amused smile to know it's there when he advances out the door, Erik always claiming Charles doesn't need the stick to navigate the village, it's so small he knows every nook and cranny by heart.
"I carry it to beat the kids with," Charles always jokes.
"You'd best get home," Charles says, prodding a relieved Sean in the direction of the house he shares with the brothers, Alex and Scott. "It's about time for Angel to take the tower anyway and Erik and I can walk the border till then."
"What if it's really them?" Sean asks right before he steps off Charles' porch. Charles sometimes wonders what happened to Sean before he was brought to the village, what made him so skittish, only ever relaxed and smiling when in the company of Alex who'd been an unexpected godsend.
"We'll sound the alarm," Charles assures him. "We'll hide."
Erik holds the record for the game. In his younger days, he'd thought it a point of pride that it was never broken. Now however, he has to hear from Charles about how it's because of him that they have to go through this what seems like every week.
"They all want to best you which is why they keep doing it," Charles complains as Erik sneaks a sideways glance at him. Charles, despite his failing sight, is always swift and sure in his movements. The lines of his body are tense and angry now and Erik, who'd only meant to glance at him, feels his eyes snag and catch on the purposeful way Charles moves. Without so much as a glimpse towards Erik in return, Charles snaps, "Would you stop staring like that. I'm not scolding you."
They head towards the place they call The Stump where the game is most often played, the large cut-off remnant of an ancient tree that can hold three or four children standing toe to toe but most often only holds one, hands outstretched and back facing the line of woods that borders the village.
"It sounds like it," Erik grumbles and then reaches to poke Charles in the side. Charles darts away just before Erik's fingers connect and Erik snorts. "How did you know I was staring anyway?"
"It's not nice to make fun of the impaired," Charles says instead of answering his question and Erik rolls his eyes, sure that Charles knows he's doing that too.
"This isn't my fault," Erik says and then in a lower tone corrects, "Not completely my fault."
Charles stops and turns to him, putting an unerring hand to Erik's shoulder and seeming to look straight through him. Erik grimaces and pulls away from Charles' grip even though it's the very last thing he wants to do, even though he’d been the first to reach out.
It's one of the Laws. The Afflicted cannot touch.
Charles seems to remember himself and curls his hand back into his body, giving a wry chuckle. "You can't blame the children for wanting to try to best you. They idolise you."
"They idolise you," Erik argues and it's true so far as he's concerned. When the Elders are not in the village, Erik sees most flock to Charles with their hurts and problems, both mental and physical. He's a light they're drawn to while Erik sometimes feels he's completely made of shadow and dark corners. "They fear me."
"And rightly so," Charles agrees, grinning in the way that brings out the most creases around his eyes. It always amuses Erik when Charles calls the others children as he's barely past being one himself. Despite this, his face is already lined with character, perhaps always was. "You're an imposing figure amongst us mere mortals."
"Now who's making fun, hmm?" Erik prods but then groans, because they're closer to the area the game is played and he sees immediately that while there is no danger, Charles is still going to be impossible about what's happening because the blue shape in the distance is unmistakably Charles' sister, Raven. "Maybe I should handle-" Erik begins, hoping that maybe Charles hasn't recognised Raven from that distance but that hope is dashed when Charles mutters a curse under his breath and increases his pace.
"I didn't think to check she was still in her bed," Charles grits out as Erik hurries to keep pace with him. "Why didn't I check?"
"She's obviously alright," Erik points out and she is, standing at the edge of the trees with her hands in fists on her hips and screaming at the top of her lungs at someone on the ground. Three others stand in an uncertain clump a few feet away and startle like birds when they spot Erik and Charles coming, obviously torn over whether to flee or stay. As they draw closer, the figure on the ground is also easy to recognise, red-skinned and with a pointed tail curled protectively around himself. Azazel holds a hand to his jaw and is scowling at Raven's tirade.
As she pauses for breath, Erik hears him say, "It was only a joke," which sets Raven off at a higher pitch and with more expletives.
"Raven!" Charles snaps and she turns on them, looking like she's ready to do battle with her legs braced and her fists coming up but she immediately subsides when she recognises Charles. "Was that your scream we heard clear across the village?"
"It's not my fault," Raven says, any strength in her voice that she was using on Azazel gone, instead using a sullen whine. "Azazel thought it was funny to grab me from behind while I was playing the game."
"You point out Azazel's wrong but not your own," Charles says and Raven frowns at her toes.
"I-"
"None of you are supposed to be here. It's either punishment for all of you or none. Which would you prefer?" Now all the children are staring at their toes, all except Azazel who is rising to his feet and brushing himself off. He's still touching his jaw tentatively and Erik can see that the knuckles on Raven's right hand are slightly reddened, the color almost purple because of Raven's blue skin underneath.
Erik tries not to be proud that Raven socked him hard enough that he went down because he knows Charles would not approve.
"I didn't hear him coming. It's not fair to use his Affliction like that," Raven grumbles and Erik feels Charles stiffen beside him and out of the corner of his eye he can see Azazel also freeze. Raven seems to only just realise what she's said and smacks her unbruised hand to her mouth, eyes widening.
"Raven," Charles says slowly, voice devoid of all emotion, all hints of playful scolding gone. "That's a very serious accusation. Are you sure that's what happened?"
"I didn't-" Raven starts and then her gaze darts to Azazel whose anger and humiliation have fled, replaced by fear. "He wasn't-" she tries again, still not managing to get out what she wants to say.
Charles leaves Erik's side, waving a hand at the three spectators who gratefully flee, tussling amongst themselves as they run back to the small ring of houses towards the center of the village. He stands in front of Raven, lowering his face until they're eye to eye to better bring her stricken face into focus. "Raven," he repeats as Raven now trembles before him. "If something like that happened, we must bring it to the attention of the Elders. Did it?" When Raven just blinks mutely at him, Charles reaches out, his hand not quite connecting but hovering just over Raven's shoulder like he aches to.
"You have to be very sure."
"He must have... just been very quiet," Raven finally manages. "I was concentrating and I didn't hear him sneak up behind me."
"Good," Charles says, his serious expression dropping away like it was never there and clapping his hands once, loud, a sharp sound that makes Raven and Azazel jump. "I'm sure that's what occurred. Now I'm sure you both have chores that need doing."
Raven and Azazel nod as one, scrambling away as soon as Charles dismisses them with a wave. Erik is left alone with Charles, who lowers himself to a seat on The Stump like an old man, his weight on his stick the whole way down.
"If you wanted to terrify them, you certainly succeeded," Erik says gently and Charles grimaces, setting his stick aside and dropping his head into his left hand.
"They won't be up here again anytime soon, that's for sure," he continues and Charles grunts.
"Yes they will. Sooner or later they'll think what happened wasn't that serious or the other children will urge them or they'll be bored. Some ridiculous reason."
"Do you think Azazel really-"
"No," Charles says firmly, rising back to his feet and straightening his shirt with a sharp tug. "I certainly do not think that. If I did I would have to bring it to the attention of the Elders, as would you."
"Right," Erik says as Charles brushes by him and heads back the way they came. "Of course."
The Elders enter the village once a fortnight to hold Conference. It’s usually a dry affair, the Elders governing the small group and sorting out petty squabbles as a village mostly made up of children and those barely past that are wont to have. Not all come to the meetings, some unsettled by the presence of the Elders, not liking the reminder they represent that there is a world outside their own, a world that hates them and wishes them harm.
Erik doesn’t usually make an appearance, claiming boredom rather than fear as his reason for avoidance so Charles is more than a little surprised to see Erik standing when Elder Stryker asks if there is any more business. Erik must have slipped into the back of the hall when all were distracted by Elder Frost sorting out a fight between Janos and the younger Summers brother.
Remy leans sideways into Charles. “This out to be good,” he hisses with a snicker Charles doesn’t like at all. Being in close quarters, it’s hard to keep the peace, especially when those such as Remy and Janos seem intent on causing trouble. The usual cause of friction between Janos and Scott is Janos’ constant need to pick on Sean and so by extension Scott’s brother, Alex. It’s strange that while Alex is the older of the two, Scott seems to be the one who has taken it upon himself to be caretaker. “Your friend usually doesn’t dare step foot in the Main Hall.”
“I’m sure it’s important if Erik feels the need to raise issue with the Elders,” Charles automatically defends and Charles can feel Remy’s gaze on him, calculating. Remy is a little older than Charles and Erik both, entering the village at a later age than most and having memories of the world outside that haunt him because of it. Charles will forgive him for a lot of his behaviour because of this, but even Charles’ patience and understanding will only extend so far. “He wouldn’t waste the Elders’ time with trivial matters like your friend.”
Erik clears his throat as all attention settles on him and pulls a piece of paper out of his pocket. Remy snickers again and Charles resists the urge to elbow him in the side, hard. Elder Shaw sits forward in his chair, elbows on the long table in front of him, looking intrigued. “My dear Erik,” he says with a smile in his voice that Charles is made uncomfortable by. “We hardly ever hear from you. Whatever it is must be downright thrilling.”
Erik clears his throat again, a nervous tick and Charles can’t help but feel a helpless swell of affection at the sound. He also squashes feelings of hurt that Erik would not have confided in him before the meeting about whatever it is he was about to bring up. He had thought they discussed everything, including things important enough to bring up with the Elders.
“I am two years away from the age of Migration,” Erik begins and Charles now feels Remy shift next to him, suddenly uncomfortable. Remy being only six months away from Migration himself must not like being reminded of it. “I wish to request that I be allowed to leave the protection of the village before my time, to seek a healer who would be willing to travel back with me and tend to us.”
Elder Stryker looks startled, gaping. Charles can’t tell for sure because there is always a blankness around the Elders that he does not feel around the children of the village, but he thinks possibly Elder Frost is not surprised and certainly Elder Shaw seems amused more than anything. “How would you find such an individual since all those Afflicted must hide themselves and their Affliction for fear of discovery?”
“Perhaps Charles-“ Erik starts and Charles feels all attention swing in his direction. Erik swallows audibly and seems to have reached the end of his pre-prepared words because he falters. “I mean Charles seems to... he knows if...” Erik’s words trail off into silence, unsure now like Charles has never experienced him to be. The others in the village don’t fear Erik as he thinks they do, they’re in awe of him. He always seems to know what he’s doing, where he’s going. He stays true to his course, certain in a way that few are.
He seems to lose that the moment he mentions Charles’ name.
Charles feels compelled to do something, anything to rescue Erik from the tense silence that’s growing, so he stands. He doesn’t miss the way Remy moves his chair slightly sideways, as if to distance himself from Charles and what he’s doing. The Elders are fair in most respects, but sometimes if a member of the village breaks one of the laws in a way that can’t be forgiven, a way that endangers them all, then they would disappear, their Migration brought forward.
Charles doesn’t want to know what it would be like to wake up one morning and find Erik merely gone without a trace. They are due to Migrate at the same time and Charles has always found a small measure of comfort in the idea that wherever they’re eventually going, at least they’re going there together.
“Are you suggesting that you and Charles travel to the outside world, that you have Charles use his Affliction when there are Sentinels just waiting for that very thing?” Elder Frost asks. Her face and tone are friendly but despite the careful blankness around them, Charles still gets a chill down his spine. Be careful, you are treading very thin ice he can swear he almost hears in his mind. “Do you forget why you are here in the first place?”
“I didn’t forget,” Erik says and his tone strengthens with his words, a little of the old Erik coming back. “I can’t forget something I don’t know in the first place.”
“Erik-“ Shaw begins and Erik breathes in through his nose, out through his mouth slowly. Charles feels the hairs on the back of his neck stir, a few nails left over from fixing his porch railing starting to vibrate in his pocket. Charles knows if he continues to do nothing then this will all end very badly.
“We came here too young to know the kind of dangers that await us outside,” Charles blurts and Erik’s face snaps his way, the almost-electricity in the room draining away. “Daniel’s death has unsettled us all, made us question why we have been saved when so many haven’t.”
“Charles-“ Erik starts to say but Charles speaks over him, acutely aware that at that very moment he is most probably saving Erik’s life, and Erik won’t thank him for it.
“We’re grateful to the Elders for time we’ve been given, the time we might not have been allowed otherwise. The safety in which we live.”
“The safety we’ve gifted you,” Elder Stryker growls, smacking a hand on the table in front of them.
“I only ask for the chance-“ Erik starts to say again and Charles puts a hand up and out, begging for silence.
“All Erik means, all I mean is that separated as we are, sometimes it’s hard to remember the danger we’re all in. Losing one of us is a shock and can derail rational thought.”
“Charles is right,” Elder Frost interjects, putting a hand to Elder Stryker’s arm and squeezing gently. He winces and subsides, the anger emanating from him, slipping past that strange blankness dissipating fast. “Erik, you know we cannot allow you to leave the village, it isn’t safe.”
Erik bows his head and clenches his fists. There’s fury in the lines of his body and Charles knows that some of it will be directed at him. “Charles, please take Erik outside while we finish up,” Elder Shaw instructs.
Charles squeezes past Remy and into the aisle made by the two rows of chairs in the Meeting Hall. Erik doesn’t wait for him, slams out of the hall on his own. Charles grips his stick in his fist and hurries after.
“I don’t know what goes on in that head of yours sometimes,” Erik hears behind him and he rounds on Charles, so fast and with such anger that Charles stumbles to a stop, stick held between them like he’s expecting a blow.
“Don’t you?” Erik sneers. “I’m sure that isn’t true.”
Charles flinches at the blatant accusation in Erik’s voice and Erik feels immediately contrite, the embarrassment that was fuelling his anger draining away with Charles’ stricken expression. Charles’ actions inside the Meeting Hall were to be expected, were the very reason that Erik did not tell him of his plans before. “I’m sorry Charles, I didn’t mean that,” he says in a gentler tone.
“You did actually,” Charles says, wry. “It’s okay though. I don’t blame you.”
“I’m a bad friend sometimes,” Erik says with a shrug. “I don’t know why you continue to put up with me.”
“What choice do I have?” Charles says with a grin. “The only others my age are Janos and Remy and I would rather boil my head in a pot of Sean’s terrible soup than have them for companions.”
“Oh, so I’m merely your only choice am I?” Erik asks, feigning hurt and pouting mightily. “You could always spend time with your sister and her cohorts.”
“I value my sanity too much for that,” Charles says and Erik nods, understanding. Raven certainly runs Charles ragged with her antics already and to actually inflict them on himself intentionally would probably be the end of him.
“No,” Charles says with a tone of finality. “I’m afraid you are the only one of a very few limited options for me.”
“Well that’s certainly not flattering at all,” Erik laughs, the mood lightened.
“I don’t wish to flatter you. There are plenty of those willing to do that.”
“I don’t want anyone else to flatter me,” Erik says, perhaps a little too boldly because Charles blinks at him and flushes a very fetching shade of pink, all the way to the tips of his ears. Erik feels the urge, not for the first time, to wrap Charles up in his arms and cuddle him silly. It would be a very hazardous thing to do with the Elders only a scant few feet away and contact being taboo but he can’t help it and he must be wearing a silly grin on his face that betrays something of his thoughts because Charles goes even pinker, which Erik didn’t think was possible.
“I have...erm... class?” Charles gets out, sounding a little strangled. Erik nods and chuckles, watching Charles hurry away, his stick held out in front of him, as useless as ever. Charles turns before he disappears around a corner though. “Promise you won’t do anything that rash again without discussing it with me first,” Charles calls. “Especially if you expect me to be involved.”
“Where would the fun in that be?” Erik calls back and waves Charles off.
When Charles is gone, Erik turns back to the Meeting Hall to find Janos and Remy standing behind him, the others pouring out of the meeting hall at their backs. The Elders are nowhere to be seen which is their usual way, appearing and disappearing without anyone seeing them. “Want to play the game?” Remy asks, his thickly accented voice amused.
“Aren’t we a little old for that?” Erik snorts.
“I heard that Charles’ little sister was attempting to break your record,” Janos says. “We thought you might want to make it a little more unattainable.”
“Don’t you have anything better to do?” Erik asks, suddenly feeling tired. Like Charles, sometimes the inescapable presence of some around him grates. He can’t avoid Remy and Janos forever and he knows once they get an idea in their head they rarely, if ever, let it go.
“You were willing to risk leaving the village. I’m sure standing on a stump at its border would be nothing to you now,” Janos wheedles and Erik doesn’t have to be Afflicted as Charles is to know that something isn’t right.
“I won’t be a pawn for your amusement,” he snaps and does the only smart thing he can at this point.
He walks away.
Charles would be so proud.
“Why do they hate us?” Jubilation asks, her voice small and her usually large eyes even larger still.
“Why would you say that?” Charles asks as the other children watch him expectantly. The thing about a village such as theirs is that nothing is ever secret for very long. Most would have heard, possibly before the Elders’ meeting even let out that Erik had asked to leave and why. Whenever something like that occurred, the reason the village existed at all would invariably come up.
“They would murder us in our beds,” Paige says, chewing on the end of a braid. Charles sighs and rubs a hand over his face. He hates that such small beings can hold such large amounts of fear inside.
“Why would such a notion come into your mind?” Charles asks.
“Janos says that they’re meat-eaters. They would skin us alive and eat our bones,” Paige says and the other children nod sagely, like this is wisdom of the ages.
“They have large claws and pointed teeth,” Angelo pipes up. The young boy is having a rare good day, his Affliction unlike most causing him physical ailment that cannot be controlled by simply not using it. He pushes at his arms, trying to move sagging grey skin into place much like someone would push up the sleeves of a sweater on a warm day.
“Was that from Janos too?” Charles asks, at a loss as to what pleasure someone could derive from telling such horror stories to children. The ten small souls in his classroom nod as one and Charles knows that he is not going to get to teach any science that day. He closes the battered text book he uses carefully, the book threatening to fall apart completely with any rougher handling. He’d been planning to ask the Elders for more materials for the school but had forgotten after Erik’s little outburst. “Humans have never breached our borders and the Sentinels are blind to us here as long as we do not use our Afflictions. We do not go into their cities and they do not come into our village.”
“But-“ Jubilation starts again and Charles holds up a hand.
“The Elders brought each and every one of you here because they wanted to protect you. This is a safe place.”
“You’re very brave asking to leave the village as you did,” Raven says. She’s sitting on the fence outside Erik’s small house that holds in the few goats he keeps. He likes their company, they don’t judge him, don’t have any particular expectations except that they be milked and fed. She swings her feet, bare of shoes. Charles manages to get her into a dress to leave the house but Erik knows it is an ongoing battle trying to get her into anything else.
Erik’s not sure why he bothers. Raven’s scaled skin means that even undressed, she is not what he would call indecent. He rather likes her blue form, likes the reminder that they are all unique, wishes he had features that would differentiate him from the monsters that would kill them in their beds.
“I don’t know if I’d call it brave,” Erik says. “I know your brother would call it something very different.”
“Charles is overly cautious, always has been,” Raven says. She eyes Erik, the yellow making her expression harder to gauge than most. “Especially where people he cares about are concerned.”
“Charles often wonders how I get some notions in my head. I wonder the same about you,” Erik says, hoping that a blush doesn’t betray him, much like it does Charles.
“Can we speak of other matters if the subject of Charles makes you so uncomfortable?”
“It would be a relief,” Erik says and Raven grins, her white teeth dazzling in her blue face.
“I’m in love,” she blurts and Erik’s relief at the subject change is extremely short-lived. “I’m going to marry.”
“There’s a way in which these things are supposed to happen,” Erik points out, surprised. “For one, you and the boy should be presenting yourselves to Charles and then to the Elders.”
“I haven’t spoken to him yet,” Raven says, dismissive and Erik just blinks at her.
“Charles?” At Raven’s shake of the head Erik gapes at her. “You mean the boy you’re going to marry? He’s unaware of your intentions?” he asks slowly.
“He’s shy,” Raven says with a shrug. “And easily startled. I wanted to ask your opinion first.”
“Before the boy that you speak of?” Erik asks, incredulous.
“I thought you might be able to tell me the best way to approach him.”
“I still think you’re going about this a little backwards,” Erik says, moving out of his small gated front garden and offering a hand to Raven that she accepts and jumps down lightly. “And why would you think I would be able to give you advice?”
“I know what Charles thinks of you. I want to know what you did to inspire such devotion.”
“I didn’t do anything,” Erik says, his heart tripping over at Raven’s words. She’s his sister, she knows Charles better than anyone and to think that he could... that he might...
“Charles is very similar to Hank and-“
“Hank?” Erik manages to get out and barks a laugh. When Raven scowls at him he schools his expression.
“You think badly of him?”
“Not at all,” Erik says quickly. “I just... I didn’t expect you to think so well of him is all.”
“He’s not like the other boys. He’s not silly or cruel. He’s sweet and humble and shy.”
“Things you definitely are not-ow!” Erik protests when Raven smacks him in the arm. He rubs at the spot, Raven always a little stronger than she realizes.
“I didn’t expect you of all people to make fun.”
“I’m not... I’m sorry Raven,” Erik says. “Just... it’ll be symbolic only. Because of the Law you won’t be able to so much as hold hands.”
“Until Migration,” Raven says, bouncing on her toes. “If we’re married we’ll be allowed to migrate together. Not all of us are lucky enough to be assured of Migration with the one we care for by virtue of birth date.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Erik says gruffly and picks a stick up off the ground to poke at Raven with. She squeals and darts away, laughing.
“I hear you’re dolling out romantic advice,” Charles says, just as Erik takes a huge swallow of water. Charles grins when that gets the expected result, Erik choking and spluttering mightily. They’re sitting on Erik’s porch, watching Raven, Sean, Alex and Azazel play a rousing game of... something. Charles doesn’t exactly understand the rules. He knows one person has a brightly coloured cloth and everyone else is trying to take it. There are apparently teams involved but Charles doesn’t think even the players know which teams are what.
“Where did you hear that?” Erik manages, his voice sounding strained and Charles takes pity on him and chuckles.
“You think you’re so special that Raven only asked you for advice?” Charles prods and Erik grimaces and looks away.
“She asked everyone?”
“Not everyone but certainly not just you,” Charles says. “My sister’s precocious and she likes to cast a wide net.”
“Is Hank the only person out of the loop?” Erik asks, gesturing at the dark figure loitering at the edge of the game, waving off anyone that asks him to join and pushing nervously at his glasses. Charles can feel the tension rolling off Hank in waves even from a distance and without trying to.
“I think maybe Raven is asking advice from so many people in the hopes that someone will accidentally mention it to Hank and he’ll feel compelled to do something about it.”
“Subtle,” Erik snorts and Charles nods his agreement.
“Subtle is something you could never accuse my sister of being.”
“How do you always know it’s me when I approach you?” Erik asks out of nowhere and Charles frowns, not really sure what he’s getting at.
“I approached you today,” Charles says. “And who else would be sitting on your porch?”
“You know what I mean,” Erik says.
“I hope you’re not asking what I think you’re asking,” Charles says slowly, voice pitched low. The Elders have a way of finding things out and Charles doesn’t want to tempt fate and their wrath by having the conversation Erik seems to be trying to have about his Affliction.
“I’m not... Charles. It’s just us, I’d like to know.”
Charles sighs and sags a little, aware that his shoulder and Erik’s are only inches apart. It’s hard to remember the Law, the reason for it, when Erik is sitting so close like he’s entitled to it, like there’s nothing wrong with it. Charles envies Raven’s boldness, feels like maybe he should borrow a little of it just this once, reach out and take what he wants.
“Everyone puts off... I’m not sure how to describe it, maybe a color is the closest thing to it. With some people it’s faint, just a blur, but with others it’s almost vibrant, something I can follow in the darkness. Do you want to know what your color is, if you’re vibrant?”
“Would you tell me?” Erik asks, sounding a little breathless.
Charles snorts and looks away. “It’s not ladylike to speak of such things, you shouldn’t ask,” he says primly and feels the barest brush against his arm, the fabric of his and Erik’s coats meeting. It’s fleeting and thrilling at the same time, out in the open like this where anyone could see them. “You used to carry my books for me to the schoolhouse, walk with me every day. One day you stopped. I even dropped my books in front of you and you didn’t help me pick them up.”
“What are you saying?” Erik asks, voice barely a whisper.
“Your color brightens when you draw close to me, sometimes it’s almost hard for me to look at, like staring into the sun.”
“What has that got to do with carrying your books?”
“Sometimes we don’t do the things we want to do, so that others won’t know we want to do them.”
Part One | Part Two | Epilogue