Erik Lensherr (
diecastking) wrote2013-11-25 10:40 pm
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Entry tags:
XMFC/Down and Out
Erik remembers New York vividly. He has been to the city many times, as man and boy, hunter and prey.
He has stayed in the best hotels Manhattan has to offer, but he is most at home on the streets. Among the homeless and destitute, he feels more at ease than he ever has in university libraries or officious banks. These are his people: the disenfranchised and dispossessed.
Erik knows, at heart, he is a soldier, a killer. He has been deluding himself that he was tamed, a housecat, a man fit to be a companion - a father.
No more.
The illusion has shattered and he knows now he is a man who would rather see the love of his life murdered than survive in captivity. He could not suffer to see Charles suffer, so he preferred to snuff out his life.
Even days later the thought makes him sick. Erik pulls his old greasy coat closer around him, the disguise for which he traded his leather jacket. He has some money in his pocket for food, but his bike is stashed where no one can find it and he doesn't know if he can bear to look at it again.
He can't bear to be reminded of what he's thrown away by reverting to nature.
He has stayed in the best hotels Manhattan has to offer, but he is most at home on the streets. Among the homeless and destitute, he feels more at ease than he ever has in university libraries or officious banks. These are his people: the disenfranchised and dispossessed.
Erik knows, at heart, he is a soldier, a killer. He has been deluding himself that he was tamed, a housecat, a man fit to be a companion - a father.
No more.
The illusion has shattered and he knows now he is a man who would rather see the love of his life murdered than survive in captivity. He could not suffer to see Charles suffer, so he preferred to snuff out his life.
Even days later the thought makes him sick. Erik pulls his old greasy coat closer around him, the disguise for which he traded his leather jacket. He has some money in his pocket for food, but his bike is stashed where no one can find it and he doesn't know if he can bear to look at it again.
He can't bear to be reminded of what he's thrown away by reverting to nature.
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Erik is shaking with the effort of resisting Charles's will.
"Please..."
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//But I...I can't let you go//
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Now is the time to prove Erik cherishes his life, not for further apologies.
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He will live without Charles, he will ruin his own mind, he will die before he hurts Charles.
A rusty tin can flies in his hand and he turns it towards his neck.
He would rather die.
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//Stop, Erik// he soothes, suggestion now rather than command. //Look at what you're doing. Trying to save my life.//
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"I can never be good for you," he whispers.
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"The drugs Hank gives me are good for me. I don't like those much."
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"So...you want to marry a man who is terrible for you?"
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"You know my world view on vegetables."
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Erik knows he is lost - he cannot walk away from this.
"Perhaps...I might stay in Westchester? An apartment, perhaps?"
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"You already have a home. A bed. A family who love you, no matter what."
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Erik wants nothing more than to go home, but he cannot just invade their lives again.
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"You've just proven that you would keep me safe."
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"Whatever you wish, Charles."
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"Don't you want to come home?" All this time, he'd been under the assumption that Erik at least felt bad about walking out.
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"I want it more than anything. But Scott...I would protect him."
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"Just like you saved my life, just now."
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"Like his Daddy."
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"Please..." Alex finally chips in. "We miss you."
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"Let's go home."
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"Come on. Lead the way, Alex, please."
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"We are not parked far," he promises. "You can sleep on the drive home."
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