Erik Lensherr | ( Magneto ) (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
wecanavenge) wrote2014-01-15 07:22 pm
wecanavenge) wrote2014-01-15 07:22 pm
Entry tags:
- & flowers in your hair,
- alex maybe doesn't hate me i hope?,
- alles ist gut,
- and dismiss your fears,
- and love will not break your heart,
- and now i cling to what i knew,
- get over your hill and see,
- i needed more than mumford & sons lyrics,
- not you jean you stay in your room,
- ohana means family,
- saw exactly what was true,
- there will come a time you'll see,
- to fewer mistakes with anya (yeah right),
- what you find there,
- with grace in your heart,
- with no more tears
✘ | 027 | VIDEO
[It's been two weeks since Raven left, a week since the network glitch, and Erik has done a lot of thinking. He never expected to confront another version of himself, despite hearing about him plenty. He wouldn't call it enlightening, but interesting - yes. Very interesting. Between him, and another Raven, another Moira - he's been very thoughtful as of late.
The video comes on, and Erik looks directly into the camera, though it's clear he's not quite seeing it. His gaze is moving inward.]
I've been thinking about the other Barge.
[He's steadfastly refused to talk about it, for the most part. About the man he was there, about what he did. About the people he tried to save. His gaze grows more unfocused, and he can remember the light, the pain and the comfort of it. Pain has always been a part of this life: it is fitting that it was a part of the end of that one.
If that even was an end.]
I've died here. Just once. [He doesn't rub his chest, but the muscles in his arm twitch and flex as a phantom ache rises.] I don't know if I died there. I didn't care. [His gaze sharpens again, his mouth twisting into a rueful smile.] I was more concerned with saving you all.
[And destroying the Barge. That had been just as strong a need as removing everyone back to their homes. He can still remember how the Barge trembled under his power. He can't do that, here, despite his mutation functioning as normal. The Admiral is too powerful for that here.] I don't know if I managed it. I doubt it, to be honest. If the Admiral ever really died, I don't doubt that he'd just come back, like a phoenix from his own ashes. [It would be poetic, if it weren't a touch bitter.]
I do remember some of it. I remember the pain, and the way I welcomed it. I remember becoming more.
[Becoming powerful. Untouchable. Enduring. Becoming nothing. Erik looks away, thumbs over the pages of a book out of sight. He doesn't know where he's going, but he can't quite stop.] I was so angry. I wanted to crush the ship between my hands. [He lifts those hands, fingers curling inward, palms angled toward each other, before they clench into fists so hard they tremble. He has long been capable of such anger, but there...
They unclench slowly, drop back to the desk in front of him.]
And then I didn't. And then - then, I--
[He stops, looking away sharply, and without another word, kills the feed.]
[Spam for Charles]
[And then he accepted it. The anger, the pain, the loss, he had accepted it there, accepted that despite his instinct for rage, there were other, better things that needed doing.
Shoving his chair back almost hard enough to knock it over, Erik clenches his hands again, half afraid they're shaking. He's out of his room and shoving open Charles' door a moment later, and he has no idea what state he must look, but he can't imagine it being anything short of frazzled.]
I need to talk. [He needs to talk through this, now, before he tries to push it away again, before he tries to bury it. And he's afraid - afraid of this change, afraid of not changing, afraid of being here forever and accomplishing none of the things he's meant to. His chest is tight.] I need to talk now.
[Private to Alex]
I need to talk to you.
[And he knows they have a terrible history of it, knows one of them always takes something wrong, and he should do this in person, he knows, but maybe if he gets it all out now they won't wind up with shoes between their teeth or the desire to shove fists in their place.
He thought, at some point, that this would be easy if he ever managed to graduate. That he would know what to say, that the words would just be there because graduation must make this easier. It doesn't, of course. It almost makes this harder, because his chest and throat still feel tight.]
I know I've apologized. And I know you've forgiven me, though you had every reason not to. But I still owe you an apology, because I've never been able to say what's right. I don't know what's right now, but I know I need to apologize. For Cuba. For leaving you and Sean and Hank alone when you needed someone. For all of it.
[His throat is too tight, and he has to pause to clear it.]
I'm sorry. [For not being there. For not being the person he is now.]
[Private to Anya]
[Anya is difficult. Anya is so much more difficult. Because he loves her as if he'd raised her himself, this is, he thinks, the hardest goodbye he will have to make. Part of him considers staying, almost entirely for her. But that is selfish. And maybe leaving is selfish, but it's to do so much more. So he grabs his communicator and records, though he does occasionally glance off screen, at the wall he shares with her.]
Anya.
[He wonders if his tone says everything, if it says anything at all. Everything sounds strange to him just now.] I graduated. [Finally. She was right; it hadn't been far off at all.]
And I'm going to be leaving. But I want to talk to you first. [Need. The word he meant to use was need.]
[Private to Jean]
[He's going to run out of steam at this rate. He's not shocked anymore, though the surprise lingers. When he contacts Jean, he's so much closer to feeling at peace with more than he ever thought possible. It's calming, this quiet acceptance, and it's that he holds onto when he talks to her.]
You don't need someone to stop you.
[He still remembers that conversation, remembers the D'Bari, remembers the six billion people and the fire in her hair. He couldn't forget it if he tried.]
You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. [He should tell her why he's saying this, he knows, but the why is less important than the what.]
[Private to Rogue]
[He's pondered this for a little while, but feelings are exhausting. By the time he sends this message, all he has left is bluntness. He has a feeling she'll understand.]
I've graduated.
I hope you'll understand that I'm not staying.
[Private to Kelsier]
Your deal. [He's seen enough panicked wardens on board to know that Kelsier's Item must no longer be responding to him. No reason to beat around the bush.] Was it for your wife?
[Private to David]
I really hated you, when we first met. [There's a little smile in the corner of his mouth, tired but genuine.] I'm glad I didn't try to dissemble you.
[It's a poor joke, but he's really good at those.]
I'm going home. If you do leave - I suppose I should say when - you have a place with us. If you want it.
[Public]
[A few hours after his initial post, Erik comes back on the network. He's calm again, sharp. There's even a little smile in the corner of his mouth. A real, very satisfied one, with no trace of bitterness. Not now.]
I'll be leaving tomorrow.
[He reaches off screen, and pulls one smiley faced cookie into view, courtesy of the Admiral. Graduation stopped being out of reach months ago, but he never quite accepted that it was this close. He breaks off a piece of the cookie and pops it into his mouth.]
Look after yourselves.
[Alles ist Gut. He can think it without cringing, now.]
The video comes on, and Erik looks directly into the camera, though it's clear he's not quite seeing it. His gaze is moving inward.]
I've been thinking about the other Barge.
[He's steadfastly refused to talk about it, for the most part. About the man he was there, about what he did. About the people he tried to save. His gaze grows more unfocused, and he can remember the light, the pain and the comfort of it. Pain has always been a part of this life: it is fitting that it was a part of the end of that one.
If that even was an end.]
I've died here. Just once. [He doesn't rub his chest, but the muscles in his arm twitch and flex as a phantom ache rises.] I don't know if I died there. I didn't care. [His gaze sharpens again, his mouth twisting into a rueful smile.] I was more concerned with saving you all.
[And destroying the Barge. That had been just as strong a need as removing everyone back to their homes. He can still remember how the Barge trembled under his power. He can't do that, here, despite his mutation functioning as normal. The Admiral is too powerful for that here.] I don't know if I managed it. I doubt it, to be honest. If the Admiral ever really died, I don't doubt that he'd just come back, like a phoenix from his own ashes. [It would be poetic, if it weren't a touch bitter.]
I do remember some of it. I remember the pain, and the way I welcomed it. I remember becoming more.
[Becoming powerful. Untouchable. Enduring. Becoming nothing. Erik looks away, thumbs over the pages of a book out of sight. He doesn't know where he's going, but he can't quite stop.] I was so angry. I wanted to crush the ship between my hands. [He lifts those hands, fingers curling inward, palms angled toward each other, before they clench into fists so hard they tremble. He has long been capable of such anger, but there...
They unclench slowly, drop back to the desk in front of him.]
And then I didn't. And then - then, I--
[He stops, looking away sharply, and without another word, kills the feed.]
[Spam for Charles]
[And then he accepted it. The anger, the pain, the loss, he had accepted it there, accepted that despite his instinct for rage, there were other, better things that needed doing.
Shoving his chair back almost hard enough to knock it over, Erik clenches his hands again, half afraid they're shaking. He's out of his room and shoving open Charles' door a moment later, and he has no idea what state he must look, but he can't imagine it being anything short of frazzled.]
I need to talk. [He needs to talk through this, now, before he tries to push it away again, before he tries to bury it. And he's afraid - afraid of this change, afraid of not changing, afraid of being here forever and accomplishing none of the things he's meant to. His chest is tight.] I need to talk now.
[Private to Alex]
I need to talk to you.
[And he knows they have a terrible history of it, knows one of them always takes something wrong, and he should do this in person, he knows, but maybe if he gets it all out now they won't wind up with shoes between their teeth or the desire to shove fists in their place.
He thought, at some point, that this would be easy if he ever managed to graduate. That he would know what to say, that the words would just be there because graduation must make this easier. It doesn't, of course. It almost makes this harder, because his chest and throat still feel tight.]
I know I've apologized. And I know you've forgiven me, though you had every reason not to. But I still owe you an apology, because I've never been able to say what's right. I don't know what's right now, but I know I need to apologize. For Cuba. For leaving you and Sean and Hank alone when you needed someone. For all of it.
[His throat is too tight, and he has to pause to clear it.]
I'm sorry. [For not being there. For not being the person he is now.]
[Private to Anya]
[Anya is difficult. Anya is so much more difficult. Because he loves her as if he'd raised her himself, this is, he thinks, the hardest goodbye he will have to make. Part of him considers staying, almost entirely for her. But that is selfish. And maybe leaving is selfish, but it's to do so much more. So he grabs his communicator and records, though he does occasionally glance off screen, at the wall he shares with her.]
Anya.
[He wonders if his tone says everything, if it says anything at all. Everything sounds strange to him just now.] I graduated. [Finally. She was right; it hadn't been far off at all.]
And I'm going to be leaving. But I want to talk to you first. [Need. The word he meant to use was need.]
[Private to Jean]
[He's going to run out of steam at this rate. He's not shocked anymore, though the surprise lingers. When he contacts Jean, he's so much closer to feeling at peace with more than he ever thought possible. It's calming, this quiet acceptance, and it's that he holds onto when he talks to her.]
You don't need someone to stop you.
[He still remembers that conversation, remembers the D'Bari, remembers the six billion people and the fire in her hair. He couldn't forget it if he tried.]
You're stronger than you give yourself credit for. [He should tell her why he's saying this, he knows, but the why is less important than the what.]
[Private to Rogue]
[He's pondered this for a little while, but feelings are exhausting. By the time he sends this message, all he has left is bluntness. He has a feeling she'll understand.]
I've graduated.
I hope you'll understand that I'm not staying.
[Private to Kelsier]
Your deal. [He's seen enough panicked wardens on board to know that Kelsier's Item must no longer be responding to him. No reason to beat around the bush.] Was it for your wife?
[Private to David]
I really hated you, when we first met. [There's a little smile in the corner of his mouth, tired but genuine.] I'm glad I didn't try to dissemble you.
[It's a poor joke, but he's really good at those.]
I'm going home. If you do leave - I suppose I should say when - you have a place with us. If you want it.
[Public]
[A few hours after his initial post, Erik comes back on the network. He's calm again, sharp. There's even a little smile in the corner of his mouth. A real, very satisfied one, with no trace of bitterness. Not now.]
I'll be leaving tomorrow.
[He reaches off screen, and pulls one smiley faced cookie into view, courtesy of the Admiral. Graduation stopped being out of reach months ago, but he never quite accepted that it was this close. He breaks off a piece of the cookie and pops it into his mouth.]
Look after yourselves.
[Alles ist Gut. He can think it without cringing, now.]
[ Private Video ]
[It's difficult to say, but he forces the word out, forces it to sound almost normal. Ben isn't who he would have chosen for Anya - but he knows more than ever that it isn't his place to choose for anyone. She came to her own realizations just as he did, and Ben was one of them.
All he can do, now, is make sure he doesn't need to worry about them.
(He'll always worry about her.)]
Because she cares for you too, and if you manage to hurt her [you, his voice says, not some other version of him, but the Ben she loves] then I will come back.
[He has a crooked smile on as he speaks, because it's far from a real threat. Not entirely empty, he cares too much for that - but the point is that he knows. That she cares. That he does.]
[ Private Video ]
[This as calmly, as confidently. He knows Anya loves him. That is self evident. The ins, the outs of it, what it means and how it works, that they are still learning together, but he does know.
What he also doesn't understand is this... parental concern. Lua had alluded to it as well and he had been confused; if he would ever hurt Anya of his own volition, knowing that these two other people with whom he has barely interacted would be upset with him would not sway him either way. He understands protectiveness in general, of course, but...
He thinks he should probably promise not to, but he knows exactly what that is: inevitable.]
Sir, with all due respect. [And he speaks slowly, because he is sincere in that: it isn't a blow off.] Hurting Anya is not something I - or anyone - can promise never to do. Caring for someone leaves both sides open to that inherently.
And I, in particular, cannot promise to never do so knowingly. I am not stable. I have warned Anya about this, repeatedly. She understands, and has chosen to remain.
What I will promise you for as much peace of mind as it may bring you, because you are important to her - and to Alex - is what I have already promised her: I will always try my best not to cause harm. I will never do so lightly.
And if she ever chooses to have nothing to do with me, as a result or as a precaution, I will respect that as well.
None of this will be affected by whether you are here or not, know or not. But I accept your words as the sign of investment I believe you intend them to be.
[ Private Video ]
[And he does: he knows very well how people who love each other can hurt each other. He loved Magda, and hurt her by leaving. He did the same to Charles. He has hurt a lot of people he has loved.
Erik smiles a little. He can, he thinks, see why Anya might like him. It's not easy to forget what happened, on the other Barge. He'll never forget a Ben who bared his teeth and dug a hand into Charles' spine. But he doesn't want to forget a Ben who lives in reality, who cares for his daughter - his daughter and something like his son - and understands that caring can cause the worst pain.
That he would respect Anya, whatever she chooses, calms him considerably. If she stays or goes, it will be her choice, one she makes well informed. It loosens something in his chest.]
That's good enough for me.
[ Private Video ]
But something he has said has been accepted, and the X5 relaxes slightly as well. It isn't that he feels threatened, or ever did; it's that he is gratified by what approval can be had by this man who is important to two of the people who are most important to Ben. Every word he said was the truth, but then anyone who knows Ben at all knows that much.
He tilts his head slightly, more openly curious.]
Will you stay in touch with them?