(forget) who's gonna sit on your fence when i'm not there?
@groovytelepath
these cases always get to him-it’s a hazard of his profession and one that charles shared back in the days of the school, that inevitably you discover a child’s existence has been fraught with tension and abuse-and charles feels it before his husband even pushes through the small gate leading up to the path of their home. erik’s a maelstrom of whiplash-anger-fury even as he remains collected and cool outwardly, a stack of files neat and organized in their folder under his arm. he raises his braced hand to touch the mezuzah affixed to the outside of their door and kisses his fingertips, an idle motion before pushing the screen all the way across and stepping inside. “charles?” he murmurs into the empty foyer, sliding his shoes off and bending to straighten them out amidst the rows. a couple of max’s old boots, worn sneakers and smaller-ones an indication of the life in here, and it helps to soothe him slightly. that not every home is a house to pain and grief, that there is-and charles would laugh now if he could hear the thoughts (and he does)-good in the world. maybe he’s become complacent, maybe he’s old enough that he’s whirled right back around to optimism, the insufferable nature of which he’d railed against when they were younger, when they were on opposing sides. erik would never have called it such-always it was us against them-only them now includes effervescent ruthie lehnsherr and sarah dahan, her adoring mother who ensured their monthly-allotted tzedekah funds went directly to the brotherhood-of-old. he’s not quite so naive as to assume the times are different, he still writes to the UN every week protesting some newly-proposed bill or another, but he’s begun to settle-to look for the helpers, as charles told him once-and fred rogers isn’t exactly an influence you’d expect from him, but there you go. “charles, come out, i’ve brought leftovers.” the office had held a pot luck-isn’t it silly, he’s practically domestic (practically- OK, the face point-blank of domestic, erik takes as much pleasure as humanly possible from the mundane), and the young woman in his thoughts brought him some salty-mustardy confection from david pryde’s deli nestled right in the heart of the island’s market district-another baseline whom erik would consider an ally.
In the time spent together, in their new lives, Charles has learned to give Erik privacy within his thoughts. He tries not to pry if he can help it. After all, there was no longer a need to set Erik on a better path. They had kids to take care of and they were now in a better place. Charles was happy. He had a family now.Â
Once Erik came in, he felt that approaching whirlwind of emotions. Erik was never all that great at shoving his emotions away in his head, but was a master at concealing it from the world. Charles was the only one who ever truly understood Erik. They were made for each other, despite the criticism Charles received for marrying Erik. He stood by his decision to this day.Â
They will probably never understand, or forgive me for laying with the enemy. He once told himself.Â
Erik calling to him broke his thoughts and he made his way into the kitchen to investigate what leftovers he brought. “Is there enough for Max too?” he wondered.Â