[ Erik seems like he's sleeping peacefully, but inside everything feels so wrong. He's fourteen again, strapped to a cold table as Shaw tinkers with his brain. He's stopped shouting anymore, because his pleas have fallen on deaf ears. He feels like a lifeless shell, and so, when Charles wakes him, he's immobile for a moment. ]
Charles.
[ He sits up, slowly, and takes Charles' hand, kissing the back of his knuckles. ]
Sorry you had to see that.
[ Erik notices that Charles has brought him another tray of food. He's got to stop doing that so much, but Erik's grateful that Charles takes care of him when he needs it most, and when he absolutely won't accept it from anyone else. ]
no subject
Charles.
[ He sits up, slowly, and takes Charles' hand, kissing the back of his knuckles. ]
Sorry you had to see that.
[ Erik notices that Charles has brought him another tray of food. He's got to stop doing that so much, but Erik's grateful that Charles takes care of him when he needs it most, and when he absolutely won't accept it from anyone else. ]
How was Dickens? Still the inferior Charles?
[ He takes a sandwich off the tray to nosh on. ]