Car je savais déjà que

[incogneto]

WHO: Erik & Bruce (Wayne) & Charles & I guess if you wanna show up
WHERE: At the X-haus & Wanda's bakery
WHEN: 14th-end of Dec
WHAT: The holidays just aren't the same, dealing with the fallout of Wanda's death and ultimately culminating in the destruction of the homestead.
WARNINGS: ok I mean Erik is just sad

1 Late night, come home
If anyone didn't know what had passed by the time Erik got to work, his red eyes and dour expression told them something was off and the others made sure they knew within the hour. Dozens of well-wishers have expressed their sympathies, or advised Erik to go home.

Politely, he's had to thank everyone, and put on a brave face when all he wants to do is dull the pain by yelling his voice hoarse and cursing his goddamn shit luck. Instead, he throws himself into the mechanical, surrounds himself with cold steel.

They eventually convince him to go home at eight one day, which has been early for him, and he goes home expecting to have a quiet evening alone.

2 At the bakery
Eventually, he brings himself to come visit the bakery. It's snowing today, and someone's put a sign in the window stating that the bakery is on a hiatus; it was probably Wanda once she started having her seizures. He places a large bouquet of white flowers at the door, a little surprised to find he's not the first person to do so. There are little notes for the girls, from friends or fans, trinkets and a little stuffed giraffe.

He tries to blink back tears, but finds that he's unsuccessful in doing so, and eventually just stands there, still, while passersby go about their lives pretending not to notice him.

3 Raze everything
He paces around the house having taken a day off; no one is around. It's like living in a mausoleum, whenever he turns a corner he feels haunted as if by ghosts. He passes by Jean's room expecting to hear some old pop tunes playing. He opens a cupboard door to clean out what everyone else had once just stuffed in there, and out falls a box of twinkies. He wakes up to Wanda's laugh still, echoing against his walls, imagines hurried footsteps down a flight of stairs as he passes under, sees shadows of people where there are only branches.

He takes a nap and dreams in Polish, a little girl jumps into his bed to wake him up. He gathers her into his arms and feels the entire weight on his heart just flutter away on wings.

The warm midmorning light turns into a chilly wintry one as he wakes up for real, and he snaps off of the couch. He grabs the menorah off the windowsill where it's sat for the last two weeks, having moved from its usual spot on his desk, and pulls on his shoes.

He goes outside, and flicks his wrist. He wants it all gone.

Comments

bakery

[the_caped_crusader]

[A dark, familiar shadow steps next to him quietly and places a single rose next to the bouquet of white flowers, a gesture he's unfortunately quite familiar with.]

Erik.

Re: bakery

[incogneto]

[ He wipes his tears away ]

You knew Wanda?

[the_caped_crusader]

She was a member. [A somber pause.] I wanted to offer my condolences.

[incogneto]

Right.

[ Sorry, he forgot she was even in hero camp. ]

Well, thank you.

[ His lips are drawn thin because he really hates having to mourn in front of people. ]

I don't know what will happen to her. Even if the porter is fixed.

[the_caped_crusader]

She's still alive. Even if she doesn't come back here.

[It's a bittersweet consolation. People have come back to life often enough where he's from, but it's never a certainty, and certainly not a comfort he's willing to provide if there were any possibility of it not being true. But in the end, all she did was go home. Batman pulls a set of keys from his belt.]

I thought I'd offer you the chance to go inside. If you wanted.

[incogneto]

[ Erik lifts his hand and swings the door open ]

Maybe to get away from the cold for a little.

And... yes, she's still alive back home, and though I'm not, I know she's being taken care of.

[ That's what really matters. ]

She was in a great deal of pain. She doesn't have to suffer that anymore.

[the_caped_crusader]

[He steps inside with Erik, shutting the door behind them. It's quiet without the bustle of people moving through, but still smells faintly of yeast.]

She never told me. I would have done what I could have if I had known.

[incogneto]

She'd seen telepaths, healers, and doctors alike.

There was nothing you could've done.

[ He runs his fingers over a glass case he'd presented her one year for her birthday. It still has fingerprints of a child peering through at pastries on the front. ]

But she would have appreciated the thought.

[the_caped_crusader]

[He's not the sort of person to accept 'can't' easily, but it's not a point that needs pressing.]

I want you to know that whether or not she comes back, the bakery will be taken care of.

[incogneto]

...Thank you.

It's not necessary for you to do that.

[the_caped_crusader]

Not me. Bruce Wayne.

[Well... a tiny fib. He's the one with the money, after all.]

[incogneto]

Then I'll wait for him to come tell me himself.

[ Guess he's too busy to come leave flowers for Wanda, eh ]

Do you know of anyone who's made headway with the porter?

Or even asking the government for a status update?

[ It's the one thing that might reverse this ok!! ]

[the_caped_crusader]

[He'll let that one go. He knows what grief can do to a person, especially so new.]

No. Cape Canaveral has been on lock down since the event. No news in or out. But I... [He pauses] ...if I can come back, then so can she.

1. sorry for late reply, holiday rush finally died down.

[aberranthubris]

Charles is waiting for Erik when he comes home. His wish to have a lonely night at home is going to be ruined by a determined telepath looking to console him in any way he can.

There's food waiting. Charles cooked as the best he can and he's learned quite a few things by now, so the spaghetti that's sitting on the stove is not quite as awful as it could be. But it's definitely not as good as what Erik could make.

He comes to see Erik in the hall, taking his jacket to hang it for him. He doesn't say anything, just looks at him with those blue eyes of his, waiting, quietly. He half expects Erik to react with violence because it's been his mode of operating for all these decades Charles has known him. But there's hope that maybe this time will be different.

Finally he reaches for Erik, smoothing a hand over his shoulder because the hover chair allows him to reach that high nowadays, thankfully.

happy new year!!

[incogneto]

Erik doesn't respond in violence, for once. He responds, instead, with exhaustion. He doesn't offer Charles a smile or a greeting, steel-faced and solemn in the hall, barely making eye contact as he heads towards the kitchen to cook for both of them only to find that there's already something on the stove.

He should have known that already.

He checks on the spaghetti, and, satisfied, starts setting the table. It's so odd to do that now, not for a whole crowded house. "Thank you," he says, to Charles, finally. "For making dinner."

you too!

[aberranthubris]

Charles follows after him, watching him quietly for signs, for any crack in that armour of his. His own eyes are red and puffed from crying but he keeps it in for now. Because that doesn't help Erik in the least.

"You're welcome. Is there anything else I could do?"

The dinner will be a quiet affair if Erik doesn't speak up. Charles will let him take care of it without bothering him too much. Because Erik needs to eat and he has a feeling that he hasn't for a while.

Re: you too!

[incogneto]

"No," he says, with finality. "There isn't." He does try to eat in silence, because he doesn't know what to say. He doesn't want to fill a void of silence either-- that's not what they need. Erik's hands are shaking, but he tries to steady them as soon as he notices.

"Actually. Work told me I should take off, but..." he starts. "I need you to tell them I'm fine." He can't leave, can't spend all day crying and feeling sorry and making funeral arrangements for the second daughter he's had to bury in two years.

"Please."

[aberranthubris]

"I will," Charles says immediately. Erik isn't the type of person who can just sit around doing nothing. He'll go stir crazy like that. He needs to do something, preferably with his hands. "I will tell them and there's plenty you can do around here too, if you like."

Just drowning out the thoughts in something manual is good enough for now.

"Tomorrow, though. Tonight you're going to sleep."

Charles doesn't ask if he wants to, Erik will sleep. Even if Charles will have to sit on his bedside and keep him in a dreamless sleep the whole night.

"Please, put away the dishes," he says after they're done. It's not like Charles couldn't do that himself. But he's giving Erik something to do. To keep him busy.

[incogneto]

He gets up to do so, and does so manually instead of with his powers as usual. In fact, he seems to be using his powers a whole lot less, mostly because he's always used them for trivial things and relied on them much more than his hands. But going back to this reminds him of the time he gave them all up to start a family. He hadn't wanted for riches or prestige, any sort of status or lofty ideals.

He had just wanted to be able to provide for his girls then, the ones who mattered the most, who loved him unconditionally and till the end, regardless of his past and who he was.

Something about this serves as a reminder to him to remember what matters most.

And when he's done, he slides down onto his knees and with resounding quiet, places his arms around Charles.

[aberranthubris]

Charles expected it to happen eventually. Erik is a tactile person but just forcing him to slow down and take his time is the worst course of action to take.

Charles gently adjusts the chair so Erik can lay his head to his lap. There are tender fingers in his hair, threading through carefully. He can't help the tears that roll down his cheeks but he makes no point of them. Wanda's death hurt him much more than he thought possible and not just because he was indirectly responsible but because she did not deserve the ending she got. It hadn't even been quick and painless. No, she had to go through quite a bit of pain and fear.

But Charles is not here to be comforted, he just finds it hard not to feel the loss right alongside Erik. He rubs his hands down to Erik's back in a touch that he hopes is safe and sure, comforting.

[incogneto]

Right now it's hard not to feel a little lost, as if trying to beat back against a stormy current while navigating a pittance of a raft, but the warmth of Charles's touch feels like an anchor, a quelling.

No, she didn't deserve to die the way she did. She didn't deserve that pain-- she'd lived a short life, so full of suffering, but he was glad to have been part of it and to have granted her some sort of joy. Even if he was a ghost she chased, even as their relationship had been rocky sometimes, it had mostly been good. And she had found someone, and she had known that she would one day be Billy's mother, and he knew that meant to her what it meant to know that she had been his daughter.

And for that, he wasn't sorry.

"I don't blame you," he says, quietly. Because he knows Charles is thinking it.

[aberranthubris]

"I know," Charles replies a little stuffily and almost continues with But I do before he closes his mouth and keeps that inside. His guilt is not worth discussing right now.

If Erik blamed him, he wouldn't have been here sitting with his head in Charles' lap. There have been times when Erik blamed him and Charles heard it well and clear.

"Did you talk with Bruce?" he asks instead, holding Erik a little tighter because they're advancing on territory that is painful to talk about. "Are we going to bury her?"

The thought makes him sick in the stomach but it's what you do with your dead. You bury them and you honour them. They should hold a memorial.

[incogneto]

"Yes," he starts. "We'll make arrangements for the funeral and Bruce-- Wayne, not Banner-- is agreeing to take over the bakery in the interim." It sounds so callous and businesslike, the way he's laying all this out. "So... everything will be taken care of." He screws up his eyes then, and though Charles can't feel it, his lap will start to get damp. Maybe he can hear it in the quiver of Erik's voice.

"I don't know if I can do it," he confesses.

[aberranthubris]

Charles does hear that quiver in his voice and he knows what it means. It's awful because he doesn't know how to comfort Erik with this at all. For all his knowledge and empathy, he just doesn't know.

Losing a child is the worst thing that could happen to a parent.

"I'll take care of everything, Erik. Perhaps we could put her to rest after the year has changed. Give Peter some time to gather himself."

There's a hand on the side of Erik's face, just laying there, holding him gently and blocking a bit of the light that spills from the bright kitchen lamp. Charles smooths the other one down Erik's neck, curving tightly into the folds of his shirt.

"We'll have a beautiful memorial."

[incogneto]

"Okay," he agrees feebly, knowing that he'll have to hold Charles's hand the whole time. And how could he even face Peter? He's now failed all his children-- it's not like he doesn't hear the trepidation in Lorna's voice when she speaks to him. He knows.

But it had been easier, before, because it was just him, and his beautiful girls, and their family stead. They deserved a better memorial, sure, but the only ones to mourn them were a community that betrayed them. Wanda had touched so many, and so he feels doubtless that so many will want to mourn her, but-- it leaves him uneasy in the way that such formalities do.

For her sake, he'll pull it together for one day.