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)

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.

*