"The fourth note"

[lifesmarvels]

Title: The notes from Erik
Fandom: X-Men, The Journey's End
Pairing: Erik/Charles, Erik/Raven, Sean/Raven
Genre: WWI AU
Rating: These are letters and this is war, I don't think there's going to be any sexy times, but like I said this is war so I'd say NC-17 for blood and everything else that happens at the war.
Word Count: 1140 (this note)
Summary: Erik and Charles as soldiers on the front of World War I as described by the play "Journey's End" by R.C.Sherriff.

Disclaimer: This author doesn't own X-Men or The Journey's End and any of the characters portrayed in this story. Erik's not mine, Charles' not mine, Rayleigh's not mine, Dennis' not mine and not anyone else either. I like happy endings so obviously none of them is mine.

Author's note: And once again, your move the_me09



Erik sits in the trenches, very carefully not thinking of two most important people dying on some stupid raid. Some completely unnecessary, awful raid. His men know by now to leave him alone when he’s in such a mood and they steer clear of him. He’s glad, but on the other hand maybe he’d feel better if he just yelled at someone. The thought makes him cringe inwardly with guilt. Charles believes in the best of him, maybe he should try to be the better man his friend seems to see in him.

Speaking of Charles, Erik still has his letter on him. He clutched it in hands for two hours before it attracted too much attention, so he hid it in his breast pocket, right above his heart. He didn’t read it yet. He can’t, knowing that whatever is in it, it will break his heart. If Charles doesn’t love him like that and that kiss was just some sort of reassurance he won’t be able to handle it. But he knows that’s not the reason why he hadn’t opened the envelope yet. He’s afraid that Charles does love him and then Erik will have to go the rest of his life knowing that he sent to death the person he could spend his entire life with. If that’s the case (and he knows it is, because Charles wouldn’t kiss him otherwise, he’s not one for meaningless platitudes) he knows he won’t have anything more to live for and he might as well let some German shoot him in the head.

When the news come about four soldiers coming back with the captive he has to grit his teeth to not demand he’ll be taken to them right this instant. He knows it’s not his place.

Charles came back.

In the moment he hears it, all he can feel is an overwhelming relief. His Charles came back, he’s safe, he’s alive. But then the soldier continues rattling of the names and Erik’s blood runs cold. He didn’t mention Osborne. Appearances be damned, he tells the soldier to tell him right this instant where the Lieutenant is. He’s told that Osborne’s body is in No Man’s Land and he feels himself falling, down, down, down.

He collapses into the chair and stares listlessly at the wall, hand automatically coming to the pocket when he’s hidden his friend’s wedding band. Some detached part of him thinks that he’ll have to send it to Moira now. She’ll be devastated to learn about her husband’s demise. All these years on the front and now he’s not coming back. He wonders if there is anything he could do for the woman. Deep as he is in his grief he doesn’t even care about the consequences he might face when he snaps at the Colonel. The man deserves is anyway.

Charles comes in, sodden, bloody and with a shock on his face some hours later, but Erik can’t bring himself to acknowledge him. He knows it’s not Charles’ fault, but some part of him still blames the man for the fact that he came back and Osborne didn’t. He wants to lay down and weep, but he doesn’t. He needs to keep the strong front for his men. If he’d break who would be there for them?

So he drinks with Dukes and McCoy, pretending there is nothing wrong, nothing bad happened. He talks about women, laughs at the dirty jokes. Very pointedly doesn’t think about the person who he would prefer from any of these whores. Charles doesn’t join them. Not for drinking and not for dinner. Erik finds out he spent the meal with the lower rank soldiers and something inside him rears its head with hurt. Charles doesn’t want to spend his time with them anymore. He knows now that Erik failed both him and Osborne and is disgusted with him. As he should  be.

He takes the letter out from his pocket and contemplates opening it now. But whatever is inside, it doesn’t matter anymore, does it? So he crams it with the previous ones in his backpack, unopened and tries not to feel too bitter about any of this.

He doesn’t know why he yells at Charles when the man comes back down, but the thought that he might think Erik doesn’t care just because he doesn’t show it stings. He wanted to be the better man, but he can’t. The war isn’t the place for good man. Charles and Osborne are only proofs of that.

Charles leaves, just like Erik ordered him to and he drinks, because he can’t think about anything else to do. There is no one left to tell him that turning to the bottle is not an answer. That numbing his feelings with alcohol can work only for so long. He finds out the latter is true when even after finishing the bottle he can’t stop thinking of it. Osborne’s body lying bloodied, dead on the ground, unseeing eyes turned to heavens in the silent prayer. There will be no burial, no memorial, and no grieving family for him. And Erik weeps, breaking finally, missing his friend like a part of him that is no longer here.

He knows he shouldn’t have shouted at Charles. He doesn’t want the man to hate him, doesn’t want to be alone. But he did yell and there is no one in the chamber besides him. Erik never felt so utterly alone and hopeless.

He stumbles to his cot on the unsteady legs. Writing another note seems like the best idea ever now and he takes the crumpled sheet of paper and a pen back to the table. He squints, letters swimming before his eyes and he doesn’t know if it’s because of tears or alcohol. He starts writing, not caring about tears falling on the fresh ink and smudging it.

Charles, my dear Charles, my beloved Charles, dearest friend, love of my life, the only hope I have left. I’m sorry, so sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Please, I know you have been through enough, you have seen enough, but please overlook this and forgive me. I tried to prevent it, tried to let them call it off, I tried, I swear. I knew how it would end, I should have told you, I should have warmed you, I don’t know why I didn’t. But your smile, you were smiling, you were happy, I haven’t seen anyone really smiling in a long time. I’m so sorry, it was completely selfish of me to want to keep it at this price. You’d be right to never forgive me. You almost died, because I wasn’t firm enough with colonel, maybe I could prevent it somehow. And now you’re all hurt and you hate me and I can’t blame you and Osborne Osborne is dead and it’s all my fault and he was my best friend, almost like a father only better and now he’s gone and it’s my fault and you hate me and I am so alone. Please, please don’t hate me. You can never forgive me, but please don’t hate me. I’m so I can’t I love you, love you so much and you hate me and Osborne is dead and I can’t

He evolves into heavy sobs, hand no longer able to hold the pen. He falls asleep like that, head pillowed on his arms, face streaked with tears, the letter still laying under his elbow. He doesn’t see Mason taking it away and sliding next to Charles’ head.

Comments

[the-me09.livejournal.com]

NGL I'm a bit sadfaced Erik didn't read the letter :( it'll just break his heart even more the longer he waits.

GAAAHH ANGST AND LOVE AND OSBORNE POOR GUY! BREAK MY HEART GUYS D:

♥

[kiriana16.livejournal.com]

He wants to, but he's all I DON'T WANNA HURT MORE D:

YOU KNEW HOW IT WOULD GO, YOU CRIED WITH ME ON A BUS <3

I'M ALSO IN LOVE WITH YOUR ICON