wecanavenge | ✘ | 012

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✘ | 012 | VIDEO

[The video clicks on, showing an uncertain eye and not much else, because the video is held much too close. The camera flips and jostles a few times, before it's held back enough to see a young boy. He looks much younger than he really is, rake thin in a very unhealthy way, but still more than skin and bones. He's pale, and he's scared. When he speaks, it's all in German; which, usefully, is the only language he knows.]

H-hallo? [Tosh has already assured him that Herr Doktor is not around and there won't be any tests of any kind today but...he isn't entirely convinced and is more than a little nervous to direct more attention to himself. So he's hesitant, but tentatively giving into some curiosity?] Is this one of the SS buildings? [He pans the camera around the room quickly; partially visible, as he tries to gesture with his other hand, is the silver helmet he holds.] I have never been here before.

[And he heads to a couch, looking uncomfortable, but...maybe a little pleased. This is more comfort than he's known in - well, ever. He manages a little smile, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes, and falters at the edges.] It's very nice. Thank you for letting me stay here.

[His attention drops back to the helmet, now in his lap, and he holds it up for the camera after a moment - the look on his face says he probably shouldn't play with it and he's sorry, but he's drawn to it nonetheless.] Does this belong to someone?

(OOC: And tags will come from

einzweidrei because I'm a bad person. :c Blanket content warning, again, for possibly in depth discussion of the Holocaust.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He'd been playing with the helmet, setting it on the edge of the desk and trying to move it (because even if he isn't here, Erik knows what Herr Doktor would want him to do, he'd expect Erik to practice, and he really isn't certain this isn't an elaborate test of some kind.

So the second knock of the day startles him, and he drops the helmet. The American woman had assured him he was safe here, but he wasn't very certain of that, either. They'd thought they were safe in Poland, too. When he goes to the door this time, he hesitates a moment, and wipes his sweaty hands on his pants - no longer the prisoner's uniform he'd woken in, though they'd been dropped on the floor a few feet away. He wasn't certain what to do with them yet.

This time, when he opens the door, he doesn't leap away, expecting someone to come barging in. He peeks out, then opens the door wider when he sees another boy.] Hallo?

[Charles smiles, trying to be friendly, and it's practically like finding Raven in the kitchen again. He'd been alone almost his whole life, now, and suddenly finding other kids in his house was pretty much the greatest thing that had ever happened to him, in some ways.] Hello. [He can tell he's afraid, terrified, even, and he wants to let him know that it's okay, he doesn't have to be. He's very afraid of a man - a doctor? - and from what he can tell, he has every reason to be, but Charles isn't particularly concerned. He can make adults leave and forget why they'd even come upstairs in the first place, and he's got no reason to believe he won't be able to do the same thing to this person.

He offers the other boy his hand to shake and falls back on the admittedly not very extensive German his father had taught him back when the war had started.]

Ich heisse Charles Xavier. [And that is the extent of his German, unless you want him to count to five or tell you what a cat is.] What are you doing in my house?

Edited 2012-10-22 17:46 (UTC)

[He very carefully reaches out when the hand is offered, and he isn't certain how he understands the question - it isn't German, he knows that isn't German - but he can replay it in his head as if it was, and it's very strange and oddly comfortable, so he shakes as firmly as he can.]

Erik Lensherr. I didn't know - are you certain it's yours? [That was definitely German. But he's nervous again, and retreats to pick up the helmet from where he'd dropped it, turning it over in his hands for a moment before holding it out.] Is this yours too?

[Charles smiles, pleased that he had returned the handshake and seemed to understand him. He's never tried this before, it's not like anyone he knows speaks another language fluently enough to use it in every day life, and he follows him into the room, peering at the helmet when Erik holds it out to him.]

No, I don't know whose it is. It's weird. [He reaches out to touch it curiously, but doesn't move to take it away from the other boy, more focused on addressing the fear and uncertainty.] Erik, you don't have to be afraid. The man you're afraid of - the doctor? - I can make him go away. Why are you afraid of him?

[His grip tightens on the helmet, though a moment ago he seemed ready to foist it off on Charles. It's both unsettling and comforting, and he doesn't understand why.]

No one can make him go away. [He doesn't say anything more - but he thinks it. The cold metal tables, the tools prying his mouth open, keeping his eyes wide, the gun in Herr Doktor's hand, the ruin he'd left the lab in after he'd seen what that gun had caused.]

[Charles flinches at the sudden surge of memory, and it's terrifying, worse than a movie, not just because of the content but because he's getting what Erik had felt (still feels, really), too, and Raven had told him he needed to learn not to snoop, but underneath all that, he can still see that Erik is like him and that is just. Amazing.]

I'm like you. [He'd blurted it out before he'd thought hey maybe this is a bad idea, maybe it might just scare him more and he really didn't want to do that.] That's how you can understand me. See? [He projects it gently, trying to show him.] I'm not really speaking German, and I can make people go away, if they want to hurt someone.

[He switches back to speech, worried he'll be afraid. Maybe he doesn't want to know there are other people out there like him.] Calm down. I won't let him hurt you again, I promise.

Edited 2012-10-22 18:46 (UTC)

[He is afraid, because suddenly there are words in his head, only he isn't thinking them, and they are in the boy's voice, but Charles' mouth isn't moving, and it is terrifying.

But there is something else, too - something that makes him want to cry in gratitude because he is not alone.

Erik swipes at his eyes (he doesn't like crying, it gets in the way and he'd so rather use anger than pain), and swallows hard.]

You were...you were in my head. But some of the fear is slipping away.] Toshiko said he wasn't here.

I'm like you, [he repeats gently, not sure if he should reach out to him or stay back, if reaching out will make things worse or make it easier for him.

But he catches that thought anyway, and it seems like it's important to repeat it, to let him know this wasn't some trick or a joke or something like that.] You're not alone.

Who's Toshiko?

[Another swipe at his eyes, and Erik nods - even manages a very small smile.]

Toshiko Sato. She came to find me. Gave me clothes. [Showed him some of the boat, and it was terrifying but amazing, and it still made him falter for words. But there was something more important to address:] How do you control it?

[Charles is willing enough to accept that - there were adults here who could apparently be counted on for basic things - and frowns slightly, trying to figure out how best to explain it. It wasn't something he'd always known how to do, and he still had trouble with it sometimes, but he was working on it.]

It's... hard to explain. I could show you?

[Erik doesn't nod enthusiastically, though he might have a year ago. He looks wary all over again, instead. Anger and pain, he remembers, and quickly shakes his head no.]

That's all right.

It's alright, I don't- It's not like that. [He doesn't need to be angry or hurt to do it, both things actually make it a lot harder to access correctly.] It's just hard to explain to someone who can't do it. I won't show you if you don't want, I promise.

[He really doesn't want to scare him off, because he's the second person he's ever met who can do this kind of thing, and he's been hurt and treated badly because- because he was different? Regardless, Charles didn't want to hurt him any more than he already had been.] You're hungry. Do you want to find something to eat?

[Because he was different. He wonders if Charles just hid it better. He doesn't look like the picturesque Germans; he wasn't blond, he wasn't absurdly strong. Erik didn't think he could win the javelin throw, either. But maybe it's different in England, maybe it's safe there still.

The topic change is welcome, though, and now he does nod quickly. He's starving; he feels like he's always starving.]

Yes. Yes, I'm so hungry.

Brilliant. It's on the- [He stops, brow furrowed in concentration, looking for a mind of someone who's been here longer and carefully extracts the information.] First floor. Come on.

[He almost reaches to grab his hand and lead the way out the door, but he thinks Erik's actually older than him and he's not Raven, so he decides against it, instead just heading to open the door again, glancing back over his shoulder to make sure Erik was following.]

Where are you from?

[By a few years at least, though it's hard to judge based on size. Erik hasn't had much chance to grow properly. But he does follow, and closely - he trusts Charles, because Charles could make others leave them be, and because Charles is like him. He isn't alone. That is more cheering than almost anything else.]

Germany. I lived in Nuremberg, before...before the war.

[The war. Charles frowns a little, wondering what that must have been like. There's a moment where he almost wonders if that means he shouldn't talk to Erik, because he knows the Nazis are evil, and that Captain America and his friends plus thousands of Allied troops are trying to stop them, and he follows along with what's happening as best he can in the papers and from listening to the radio, even if it upsets his mother and Raven doesn't like thinking about it.

But Erik's not a Nazi, he's just a kid like him, and suddenly there's a very strong sense of wrong bothering him, because if Erik was German, why had he ended up in that place, with Herr Doktor? Why was he starving and so scared? He knew people got taken prisoner in war time and it wasn't nice, but you didn't do it to your own people, and you definitely didn't do it to children.]

I used to live in England, but we had to move because of the war.

[Erik would love to be in the dark about these things, but he'd grown up with it; Hitler made them scapegoats, and he'd been taunted throughout his limited schooling for being a dirty, lying, cheating Jew. He hadn't understood, for the longest time. He understood it better, now.]

Where did you move to?

Westchester, New York, in America. My father was an American. [Was, because Brian Xavier had been dead for about four years, now, and they'd been living in New York for about two. He didn't mind it, although he missed England sometimes. Missed his father, too.

He wondered if Erik missed Nuremberg, but that seemed like a stupid question. Of course he'd miss it, considering his alternative.]

I don't miss it, [He said, though he wasn't entirely certain how he'd known Charles was wondering.] I miss - I miss what it used to be like. [With his mama and papa, with his uncles, before he'd been expelled for cheating even though he'd never cheated. Before he'd learned to smuggle in and out of the ghetto, before he'd wound up in Auschwitz.]

I'd rather be in America. It's free there.

[It hurts to hear it, and it hurts to feel it, too, and Charles has already made up his mind before he says anything, stopping and looking at Erik seriously, almost desperately.]

I can come find you and get you out. [It's an insane thing to promise, but he doesn't want to leave Erik alone in that place, he wants to help and he can, and he's going to.] No one will even know you're gone, I can make them forget. You woke up in a room from my house, didn't you? That must mean I find you and save you, and you come live with me and my mother and my sister.

[He grips the helmet more tightly, and looks down at it instead of at Charles, because he feels like he might cry again. If anyone - if anyone could do it, his friend could. Charles could save him. And if Erik learns to unlock his gift, like Herr Doktor said he could - then they could save all of them.

And he'd kill Schmidt.]

Will you? [It was almost too good to believe, but he did already; it helped, having Charles in his mind like that.]

[He would. It would be harder than anything else he'd ever tried to do with his powers before, but he knew he could do it, he wouldn't even be hard. Raven might worry, but he'd be back and he'd have Erik with him, and they could free everyone, because there were so many people there and they all needed help. It made him almost want to cry, although he wasn't sure if that was coming from Erik, or if they were just feeding off each other now.

He pushed it back and stood up a little straighter, offering his hand to Erik again to shake on it, make it official.]

I promise. [Not I'll do everything I can or I'll try. He'd come and they'd get out of there together.]

[He could practically see it. They would walk out of the gate his parents had first disappeared behind, the gate he'd bent and disfigured, and they would leave everyone. Everyone, from both camps, they would walk out to their freedom.

Erik is crying when he takes Charles' hand, and he doesn't even feel ashamed. He nods, throat too tight to speak for a long moment.]

Together, [he manages.]

[Charles is smiling hard enough it almost hurts and he holds on tightly. They're not alone, they have each other and Raven and there had to be others out there like them, and after they got everyone out of the camps, they could find them and they'd never have to be alone again.] Together.

[He grins wider, if that's even possible, and the solemnity fades quickly from his expression as he carefully tugs Erik along after him.]

Come on, do you want to take the elevator or the stairs?

[And Erik follows with a little stumble, but he's quick to get his feet under him again.] Um--

[He looks down the hall, eying the elevator. Tosh took him up the stairs, and now that he's looking at the elevator, he sees why.] The stairs.

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