[ Charles' serene moment of silence faded when Sean came in-- he wasn't sure how the boy managed it; he had been sure to lock the door. He could feel that ache swelling in his stomach, the mix of pills and scotch not the most pleasant sensation he had ever felt-- still, the moment of silence in his head had been worth it. The noise had been growing over time, louder and louder, swelling and scraping against his mind till he gave in to the ever present temptation to end it all. He had wanted to go alone, in his bed, quietly-- the kids would have each other; they were strong enough now but...
Damnit. He tried to clear his swimming head as he looked at that mop of hair. ]
[Sean had been worried for Charles for some time. After what happened on the beach, Sean had been trying to give Charles space, instead focusing on Alex and Hank, but something had made him pick the lock on the door, to check on the man he considered one of his parents.]
[ He sucked in a breath trying to keep himself together, to hide it. He gently pats the space beside him, he can feel his hand moving as if through water--detached and slow, ]
I'm... fine Sean. [ His chest feels heavy, just breathing was becoming labored. He could feel sweat truckle at his temple when the pain in his gut twists and pulls like the beast of his memories rotting in his stomach. ] Just-- tired.
Re: >> ;; ♥spr_sonicSeptember 1 2011, 02:18:50 UTC
[Sean slowly moved across the room to sit down next to Charles, he knew something was wrong but not quite what yet. His hearing picked up the labored breathing and his eyes widened.]
No, you're not. Why does your breathing sound like that?! [His voice had a tinge of panic in it. Charles couldn't get sick, he was the one that took care of them.]
Just tired-- [ He says quietly, closing his eyes and tipping his head back, and trying to keep breathing for as long as Sean was in the room, hoping he could give him a send-off before things got too serious... or painful. ]
Did you know that emotions have vibrations, Charles? [Sean increased his hearing until he could focus on Charles' breathing. The hard sound of it convinces Sean that something really is not right and that he had been justified in worrying for him.] Charles. What's going on? Please don't lie to me.
[ He lets out a little rumble of a noise, bright blue eyes hallow as he takes a moment to peer down into the alleyway before back over to Raven. ] Eat. [ It was becoming a challenge to talk, he could feel his lips crack with the movement and the burn of air-- so much like fire-- down his throat. He wants to shove the bread into her mouth, to make her eat, just to make sure he doesn't pass out before she does. It's the first bit of food they've found in a while and part of him is irrationally scared someone will take it away-- he doesn't know why, but the fear is just there. Tainted by years of other peoples malicious thoughts aimed toward the mock-siblings. He had to feed her; had to, not just because she was his little sister but because it was his faultHis control had slipped once; just long enough for them to get caught, just long enough to be seen for what they were and he ended up getting the pair of them run out of their home, they had been so young-- and now... And now he wasn't even sure he could eat anymore if he wanted to.
( ... )
[He's pushing himself, but that was one of Charles's admirable qualities: doing what he had to for those he cared about. Only now, their lives were at stake. And things weren't looking well for either of them.
He only managed to find a scrap of bread. Not enough to feed either of them. And predictably, he is giving it all to her.]
I can't! [She resists, closing her mouth.] You gotta eat too. [Taking the bread out of his hand, she rips it in two and pushes one of the pieces back to him.] I'm not going to let you leave me just yet. Please, Charles! [Because of the two, he was worse off than she was; she could see it in his stark skin and hallowed eyes. She didn't look much better, but she could feel she wasn't as bad off.]
I'm not hungry-- [ It wasn't entirely a lie, he couldn't feel the hunger anymore-- just a swollen ache in his stomach. He had gone far past the desire to eat, the desire to do anything really but just lie next to his sister till the quiet came. The will to eat, along with the energy to do so, was gone. Stubborn as he was, however, he couldn't help but press her; his lips pulling down into a mild scowl even too tired to retain the expression for long. ]
Eat it or I'll make you eat it. [ He had always kept his promise, kept his mind out of hers, but at the moment he deemed he would do a necessary evil if he had to. He would keep her alive, keep her save, he had to-- Goddammit Raven--] Don't make me. Please.
It likes the angst.butwedonotAugust 31 2011, 17:57:09 UTC
[ He had never felt so helpless.
Blood coloring his fingertips, dragging across the tops of the rocks under his palm-- scraped open wide, exposing him as just as human as everyone else. Of all that is written, I love only what a person has written with his own blood. He doesn't know why Nietzsche of all people cracks the surface thoughts of God and Pain. Perhaps it's because somewhere out of the corner of his eye he can see that blood red, that vibrant purple and all those memories-- the ones he tried to push down till those nights when he had a few hours alone and a nice glass of scotch. He looks past the red of his palms, toward his stomach, he swears somewhere in the back of his mind he can almost see the blood from his stomach oxidizing-- it's irrational, he knows, but it's oh-so-hard to think with that much pain. Whatever was sticking out of his gut, whatever had yanked him from his chair, he could see the faint glint of it in the light. Something echoed.
[ They fell apart just as soon as they got together, at odds purely because Charles couldn't reconcile his beliefs with Erik. The idea that humanity was somehow on part with mutants was ridiculous, laughable even, given the way history kept repeating itself. So when Erik made his beliefs known, to Charles of all people, they stopped. Gone were the friendly discussions, the healthy banter, and they took their respective sides on a battlefield for humanity
( ... )
[ His throat tightens and he swallows on reflex to the pain, as if devouring the scream of pain that dared to push against his lips. Something stronger, bile perhaps, following but neither are allowed passage. His forehead comes to rest on the dirt and rocks and for a moment he just shuts himself off to the world. He cant take Raven's screaming in his head, louder than the rest, ideologies aside they were still siblings; perhaps not by blood but by a stronger familial bond formed over time.
Tears pinprick at the corners of his eyes, but no real sobs come, not yet, shock has settled itself in-- twisting his body up in pain as one arm gives out and suddenly he's on his side, and then on his back. Gasping up he can see how damn blue the sky is-- the white tufts of clouds barely casting a shadow
( ... )
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Damnit. He tried to clear his swimming head as he looked at that mop of hair. ]
--Sean?
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Charles? Are you alright?
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I'm... fine Sean. [ His chest feels heavy, just breathing was becoming labored. He could feel sweat truckle at his temple when the pain in his gut twists and pulls like the beast of his memories rotting in his stomach. ] Just-- tired.
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No, you're not. Why does your breathing sound like that?! [His voice had a tinge of panic in it. Charles couldn't get sick, he was the one that took care of them.]
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It's been a long day-- I just wanted to relax.
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He only managed to find a scrap of bread. Not enough to feed either of them. And predictably, he is giving it all to her.]
I can't! [She resists, closing her mouth.] You gotta eat too. [Taking the bread out of his hand, she rips it in two and pushes one of the pieces back to him.] I'm not going to let you leave me just yet. Please, Charles! [Because of the two, he was worse off than she was; she could see it in his stark skin and hallowed eyes. She didn't look much better, but she could feel she wasn't as bad off.]
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Eat it or I'll make you eat it. [ He had always kept his promise, kept his mind out of hers, but at the moment he deemed he would do a necessary evil if he had to. He would keep her alive, keep her save, he had to-- Goddammit Raven--] Don't make me. Please.
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Blood coloring his fingertips, dragging across the tops of the rocks under his palm-- scraped open wide, exposing him as just as human as everyone else. Of all that is written, I love only what a person has written with his own blood. He doesn't know why Nietzsche of all people cracks the surface thoughts of God and Pain. Perhaps it's because somewhere out of the corner of his eye he can see that blood red, that vibrant purple and all those memories-- the ones he tried to push down till those nights when he had a few hours alone and a nice glass of scotch. He looks past the red of his palms, toward his stomach, he swears somewhere in the back of his mind he can almost see the blood from his stomach oxidizing-- it's irrational, he knows, but it's oh-so-hard to think with that much pain. Whatever was sticking out of his gut, whatever had yanked him from his chair, he could see the faint glint of it in the light. Something echoed.
An explosion. Shrapnel. ]
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Tears pinprick at the corners of his eyes, but no real sobs come, not yet, shock has settled itself in-- twisting his body up in pain as one arm gives out and suddenly he's on his side, and then on his back. Gasping up he can see how damn blue the sky is-- the white tufts of clouds barely casting a shadow ( ... )
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