xmenfirstkink | round 3 overflow post

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Round 3 Overflow Post

This post is for Round 3 fills only. We ask that when a round hits 8500 comments, fillers begin moving their fills to this post.

Format:
SUBJECT LINE -- Round #, short description of fic (ex: "Alex/Hank, lab partners")
--- Link to the prompt
--- Text of the prompt

--- Link to the fill
OR
--- Entire text of the fill

EXAMPLE:
Prompt: http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/6437.html?thread=1038472#t2038174

Charles/Erik -- Charles is a bakery owner whose most frequent customer is Erik.

Fill: http://xmen-firstkink.livejournal.com/6437.html?thread=0139482#t4502942

Charles started off the morning the same way he always did...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

From: (Anonymous)

They both pulled themselves up, and not a moment too soon – for Shaw finally seemed to have got tired of waiting for them to pull themselves together and was now heading towards them with an almost insultingly bored expression.

‘Sympathetic as I am to the plight of young lovers …’ Shaw said with a wistful sigh. ‘I really must insist that we get back to the matter at hand. Business before pleasure, hmm?’

‘Fine by me,’ Erik muttered, before suddenly flexing his powers and causing a vine-like metal tentacle to burst out of the scrapheap behind Shaw. It had wound around Shaw’s body before he had so much as realised what had happened. He blinked for a moment before looking down and sighing.

‘Not that I’m not pleased with the control and stamina you now possess,’ Shaw said. ‘But I really think that you ought to come up with a new plan now, don’t you?’

Erik allowed himself to crack the ghost of a smile.

‘Oh don’t worry,’ he said smoothly. ‘We have.’

And then, before Shaw could react, yet another metal vine split off from the other and, quick as a flash, seized hold of the helmet on Shaw’s head and pulled.

To Charles it felt like the floodgates had been opened and for a fraction of a second he was almost overwhelmed by what he saw – the age, the many life-times, the deeds, the malice that was within Shaw. But then the moment passed and Charles was master of himself once more and he waited not a second longer. The helmet had barely left Shaw’s head before he had mastery of it, his own mind wrapped fiercely around Shaw’s in a death-grip, freezing all but Shaw’s most basic functions.

Erik straightened, his arms lowering. He regarded the scene before him coolly, calmly – at least, so he appeared on the outside. Shaw’s eyes were wide, the only part of him that could move, and they flicked from Charles to Erik, where they remained. Erik smiled grimly. It seemed that Shaw had at last learned to view Erik as a threat.

‘It’s a shame,’ Erik said evenly, slowly walking up to Shaw so that he stood less than an arm’s length away from where he was frozen. ‘Because despite it all, I think we could have agreed on some things; we could have worked.’ He ran his eyes thoughtfully over Shaw’s frame and cocked his head to the side. ‘Unfortunately,’ he murmured, ‘you killed my mother …’

Shaw’s eyes bulged at that and despite the fact that he couldn’t talk, Erik knew perfectly well what Shaw wanted to say.

‘Well that’s all in the past now,’ he said, taking a step backwards and turning around with a sigh. Then he paused. ‘Well – it will be. In a moment.’ And when he turned back around there was a single silver coin floating in front of him, spinning and rotating in mid-air, raised until it was within Shaw’s line of sight.

Erik was watching Shaw’s expression and he saw the moment that Shaw recognised the coin for what it was. He gave a humourless smile.

‘I’ve carried this for a long time,’ he said softly. ‘It’s time now, I think, to let it go.’

And with that he pushed forward, sending the coin spinning through the air, pushing it, pushing it hard, putting every last particle of hate and loathing into it as he did so. He gritted his teeth as the metal of the coin met the skin of Shaw’s forehead, feeling each groove of the coin’s edge burrow inwards. Erik’s eyes dipped momentarily so that they met Shaw’s, and for a moment he almost lost his concentration. For there, in Shaw’s eyes, instead of fear or pain or hatred as Erik had expected to see, there was a wild, fierce joy and pride, an emotion so strong that Erik was almost bowled over by it, sickened and confused in the same breath but unable to do anything about it.

From: (Anonymous)

And still he pushed.

It was like the world had stilled around him; it had all narrowed down to nothing but the coin and the man before him and the feelings of vicious satisfaction that roared within, beneath the confusion that churned inside him. If he concentrated hard enough, he even felt as if he could hear a pained, fearful scream inside his head. The thought caused his mouth to stretch up in a wild, bloody grin, even though the expression was more of a pained grimace than anything remotely joyful.

‘Goodbye Shaw,’ he whispered, watching with hungry eyes as the coin pushed through Shaw’s head and out the other side, as the light in Shaw’s eyes grew dim and then flickered out. ‘Goodbye.’

And then Shaw collapsed and all at once Erik was free.

He was free. For the first time in his life he could finally be at peace.

He blinked as he realised that his eyes were wet and he brought his hand up to his face, amazed at the tears that brushed his fingertips. His hands shaking, he took a deep, shuddering breath and stepped back from the body in front of him.

‘Charles,’ he said hoarsely, his mouth turning up at the edges in a pained, disbelieving smile. ‘Charles, we did it! We got him! It’s over, it’s finally ov-’ He froze, mid-turn, at the sight that met his eyes.

Charles was lying crumpled on the floor, his eyes rolled back in his head, his body horrifically still.

‘No,’ Erik gasped. He immediately pushed forward and fell down to his knees beside him, his own injuries completely forgotten. ‘No! Charles!’ His hands fluttered along the edges of Charles’s body, not knowing what to do or where to touch. How had this happened? How had Charles been hurt? How had he not seen this?

Swallowing, Erik calmed down as best he could and then forced himself to conduct a quick examination of Charles’s body. Brief as it was, he soon came to the conclusion that, apart from a few scrapes and bruises, Charles had suffered no major injury. He was alive and his breathing was relatively steady, as was his pulse – the first things that Erik had checked, naturally – but there was something definitely wrong. Slowly, Erik’s gaze slid up Charles’s body, over his frail neck and onto his head. There. That was it. That had to be it.

Charles’s collapse was due to some problem with his telepathy.

Trying to force away the dizziness that was steadily catching up to him, Erik gritted his teeth, trying to recall anything that might give him a clue as to what had happened to Charles.

When Charles had agreed to help him against Shaw there had been nothing wrong with him. Erik had then battled Shaw and seized hold of his helmet, allowing Charles to take hold of Shaw’s mind and clutch him there tightly, surrounding him with his mind and holding him firmly in place even while Erik sent a coin through Shaw’s brain and ripped his brains apart -

Erik grew cold as he suddenly realised what had happened. What he had made happen.

He had killed Shaw while Charles was still in his mind.

Erik shut his eyes, thoughts full of sudden recrimination and self-loathing. He had killed a man – ended his brain function – while a telepath – his telepath – was still in the dying man’s head. Erik couldn’t even begin to guess at the repercussions that Charles was now facing. Was he trapped inside his own head? Was he trapped with Shaw? Was Charles now brain-dead? Was he in pain? Had he known what would happen?

Erik let out a guttural curse and pulled Charles’s head onto his lap.

‘Charles,’ he said as firmly as he could. ‘Charles, wake up. It’s all over now. Shaw is gone. You have to get up now, Charles.’

No response.

‘Charles!’ Erik said harshly, patting Charles’s cheek sharply with his hand. Charles’s head lolled away, his muscles free of all tension.

Gritting his teeth, Erik grasped Charles’s shoulders and shook him hard, despite not knowing whether it was the best idea, despite the fact that shaking him made Erik’s own head throb painfully.

Charles, enough! he mentally snarled. You’ve made your point, you’re a better friend – a better man than I am. Now wake up, damn you! Wake up!

Still no response.

From: (Anonymous)

Erik was growing desperate now. Worse still, his injuries and his exhaustion were finally catching up to him and he found himself slowly but surely slumping, gradually beginning to succumb to his body’s needs.

Just as he was blinking blearily, he felt something against his thigh. At first he thought that it was Charles finally waking up, and this thought sent a burst of adrenaline through his system. A second later, however, he realised that it wasn’t Charles but the vibrations of his phone, which, against all odds, had survived the battering he had received at the hands of Shaw.

Hands shaking, he slowly pulled the phone out of his pocket and brought it straight to his ear, too tired to even check who the caller was.

‘Hello?’ he grunted out.

‘Erik?’

It took Erik a moment to place the voice.

‘Remy?’

There was a great sigh of relief from the other end of the phone.

‘Mon dieu, Erik, where the hell are you?’

Erik blinked at that.

‘I don’t know,’ he said wearily. ‘Some scrap yard near the hotel.’

‘Of course you are,’ Remy sounded part exasperated and part resigned. ‘I’d almost hoped … but of course that’s where you would be.’

‘Remy,’ Erik’s voice came out hoarse and the effort of subduing a rising cough made his back tremble. ‘Remy, I did it. I got him, Remy. I finally got the bastard.’

There was silence. Then:

‘No,’ there was a disbelieving whisper. ‘I don’t believe it.’ Then, ‘My god, Erik. It’s over. It’s finally, finally over.’

Erik felt a smile pull at his lips, despite everything.

‘Yes,’ he replied, his sight going dim at the edges. ‘It’s done,’ he said, feeling himself leaning back, further and further. ‘It’s finally done …’

‘Erik?’ he vaguely heard Remy say from far, far away. ‘Mon cher? Erik, are you alright? Merde! Erik, say something! Erik-’

The phone clattered against the rocky ground but Erik was already unconscious.

*