3.16 | 11:53

[inhishead]

Without his mental radar, it took Charles slightly longer to locate Erik than it would have otherwise, once he'd made up his mind that it was time. Since the computer seemed to be keeping such tight surveillance on them, he thought it was fair to ask it for help.

"Computer? Where is Erik Lehnsherr?" His little communicator [which looked like the world's smallest television and acted like a telephone] buzzed, and a little diagram appeared, like a map that tracked his location relative to where he wanted to go. Very cunning, if terribly creepy. He followed its instructions to...well, as far as he could tell, to every place Erik had been in the last day or so, including his [locked] living quarters and the 5th Level of the space station, which was frankly a place CHarles didn't see himself visiting again in short order.

At last, not far from the point Charles would have just gone and camped outside Erik's door and waited, he found the lanky bastard standing in a nearly empty room with an immense door at the back. There was a vehicle a few meters in front of him that looked like a space-minivan, and the gesture Erik was making at it was only to familiar.

"How's it going?" he breezed conversationally, hands habitually finding his pockets.

Comments

[morethanhuman]

Erik's concentration had slipped when he heard the door open, and became irretrievable when he realized it was Charles behind him. He kept up the pretense for another few seconds, just long enough for Charles to speak, at which point he could no longer hope he'd come into the wrong room and would leave as soon as he'd come.

He turned, a little out of breath from his (still fruitless) exertion, but didn't move from where he stood. "How does it look like it's going?" His expression was flat, disinterested. "If you've been hoping your powers will come back eventually, let me be the bearer of bad news. They don't."

[inhishead]

Of course, it was classicly Erik to lead with that sort of pessimistic declaration. Charles's brow furrowed.

"Do yours not work at all?" He was genuinely concerned -Charles was nowhere near comfortable with his muted mutation, as it were, but Erik was much more apt to define himself by his abilities.

[morethanhuman]

By way of answer, Erik picked Charles's communicator out of his pocket and floated it toward him. "That's about all I'm good for," he said, sending it cartwheeling back. Charles plucked it out of the air and Erik turned away, back toward Troi's shuttle, which by this point seemed resentfully determined never to move from its anchor.

"I've been trying to move this thing for months," he muttered, the words spilling from him despite his resolve not to talk to Charles unless forced. "It hasn't budged an inch."

[inhishead]

"Well, I can't imagine real concentration is a possibility here."

He took a few cautious steps into the room, content to let the interrogation wait. There was a measure of comfort in the familiarity.

"I've always held a few particular ideas about focus, where mutations are concerned."

[morethanhuman]

Erik snorted. "Spare me the lecture, Charles. Rage and serenity-- I've heard it before." How often he'd thought of that in the months since coming here, remembered lifting the submarine, how it had felt to have all that power coursing through him-- but even clearer was the memory of that afternoon on the terrace, the feeling of the world opening up inside his mind, the victory in moving the satellite dish that he owed almost entirely to Charles.

It was too much to think about now, his sad attempt at clarity fading in the muddy confusion of Charles's presence. Erik turned back around, his expression cool. "Did you want something, or did you just come for a progress report?"

[inhishead]

Well then.

Charles had really only codified his idea into that phrase in the last few days, and it seemed like irrefutable proof that Erik had been drawn here from some later point in their lives.

All the more reason to persist in the unpleasant conversation he knew to be necessary.

"I can't ignore you, Erik. I had hoped you might have come to the same conclusion over the last two days."

[morethanhuman]

Erik had come to the conclusion that he wouldn't be able to avoid Charles no matter how hard he tried-- he knew Charles was too persistent for that-- but he wasn't going to relent and pretend cordiality. Charles would work at his defenses, would get through them without his even realizing it. It was probably going to happen anyway. But the longer he could delay Charles finding out about Cuba, the better-- even if it took being cruel to accomplish.

"I haven't thought about it much one way or another," he said, shrugging, impassive. "I've nothing to say to you, so I don't see the need for us to talk."

[inhishead]

Now that was just hurtful. Erik could be impossible, brusque, and infuriating, but he always had something to say. Unless whatever he was keeping from Charles had fundamentally changed their relationship.

"You've been kidnapped, held in space against your will for months, forced into peril, and on top of that you don't even want to discuss the fact that we're from a contiguous version of our lives while my sister isn't? My god, Erik, when did you stop trusting me?"

[morethanhuman]

Like a terrible script, Erik knew immediately what his answer had to be, though it was a wrench to say it aloud.

"What makes you think I ever started?"

[inhishead]

If this was how everyone else felt when talking to Erik, it would certainly explain a lot. Having only his body language and actual words to go on...

Well, there was a reason only Charles referred to Erik as a friend. To hear him deny that they'd ever reached a mutual understanding turned Charles's blood to icewater.

"You'll never make me believe that, so if I were you I'd start thinking of a 'Plan B'." He stared Erik down a few moments more, and retreated. Friend though he may have been, Erik Lehnsherr was also an irritating son of a bitch. On a good day.

[morethanhuman]

Once Charles was gone, Erik paced for a few minutes before leaving, all hope of making any headway gone. He took the turbolift to the fourth floor and started running, letting the steady hammering of his feet against the floor drown out the torrent of thoughts in his head.

There was no outsmarting Charles-- even without the telepathy, he was the smartest person Erik had ever known. He knew this offensive asperity was an act, and sooner or later he'd give up on getting any information out of Erik and turn to someone else. One conversation with Abed would be all it took for Erik's secrets to come tumbling out into the open.

The only hope, then, lay in misdirection-- in throwing him a little bone so he didn't even realize there was a bigger one. But would Charles believe him?

His answering thought was grim. Let's find out.