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

[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.

Alright. [And just like that, Charles is heading towards the stairs, glancing back at Erik even though he knows he's still following.] What's the rest of the ship like?

[There's some excitement, then, and his face brightens a little. He takes the lead, pulling Charles along with him, hitting the stairs and taking them as quickly as he could manage.]

There's a deck at the top, and stars, but not like at ho me - you have to see it--

[And he realized Charles didn't have to wait till they got there, so he just thought the deck at his new friend, picturing it, and remembering how startled and awed he'd been.]

[Charles lets Erik pull him along, gasping with surprise at the images, because holy cow, has he mentioned he loves science? Because he does, and that is pretty much the most amazing thing he's ever seen, even if he hasn't actually seen it yet.]

How can we breathe? I thought there wasn't air in space. [But he doesn't sound disbelieving so much as just surprised and excited, and he hurries along after his friend.]

I don't know, [and he's panting now because seriously he is not in great condition for running up stairs and weren't they going to find food?] But we can. It's amazing.

[Right, right, he was getting ahead of himself. The deck was still going to be there in a few minutes, it wasn't like it was going anywhere. He ground to a halt, looking at his friend in concern.] Erik, stop.

Food first. We're not far. [He carefully offered the way there up to the other boy, not forcing it into his mind, letting him decide to take it and lead the way or not.]

[He was winded, but he stopped - though he did glance a little forlornly up the stairs. But his stomach clenched painfully, and maybe that was a good idea. So he nodded, only a little reluctantly, and changed course to head for the mess hall instead.]

We'll go up after.

Right. It's not like it's going anywhere. [And Charles wasn't oblivious enough to insist on going up there first, right now, and he kept hold of Erik's hand as they headed towards the mess hall.]

[Erik supposed it was good enough, and he really was hungry. He held onto Charles hand and followed to the mess hall, uncertainty changing o curiosity.]

What sort of food do you think they have?

I don't know. Probably a lot of it, if there's so many people living here. [Which... actually would probably mean nothing to Erik considering it seemed like there were a lot of people living in the camps, too, and they were still starving, but this place wasn't like that. He might not be entirely sure what it was, but he knew it wasn't like the camps.

He pulled the door open and headed inside, curious, and maybe starting to get a little hungry himself.]

[Yeah that made no sense, sorry Charles. He was used to innumerable people milling about, and never a spare crust of bread to be found. But he followed in, and sniffed, then inhaled deeply. His stomach clenched again, and he eyed the food lines a bit warily - but absolutely hungrily.]

[Charles took a step forward, sensed his friend's hesitation and carefully tugged at his hand again.]

Come on. No one's going to stop you from having some. There's lots of food.

[There was a moment where he wasn't certain of that, because it felt all wrong, seeing all this food laid out and no one policing what was being taken - but his stomach wanted to believe, and soon he propelled himself forward with Charles, dropping his friend's hand in favor of grabbing a plate.]

I don't even know where to start.

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