au_bingo for the prompt "Spaceships/Space stations" Yes, my titles are getting only more ridiculous with every work I publish.

The view outside the window is breathtaking. It’s inky darkness filled with millions and milliards spots of dancing lights, colorful clouds of gas here and there peeking from red, and green, and yellow globes of planets and moons. It’s absolutely beautiful and it still makes his chest ache, the longing for their mother planet, for the aquamarine Earth still strong in him. He doesn’t think he’ll ever be rid of it. To be honest, he doesn’t want to be. It’s the proof that he still remembers and someone has to.

Charles sighs again and leans more strongly on the reinforced glass of the ship. There are light years away from his home now and as far as he knows it might be already not as blue as he recalls it. The explosions on the planet’s surface, releasing poisonous gas to the atmosphere were the thing that pushed them away from their home, the only way out a journey into space. It wouldn’t be enough to kill humans, he muses, if it just wouldn’t have the side effect of eating the ozone layer with the speed in which termites eat wood.

He doesn’t even know if anyone else from his Academia survived. He doesn’t even know his own sister’s fate. In theory, their saviors were ready to take everyone on their ships. In reality he knows it couldn’t be that good. At least people on his ship were nice and helpful. They were also cool and distant and other humans were too terrified to be of any comfort to each other. So Charles sat, curled in his spot near the window and prayed to the God he didn’t believe that Raven was alright.

He doesn’t react when someone sits next to him, but startles when the hand holding a cup of- something is thrust in front of his face. He turns just to come face to face with ship’s captain. He said at the start of their journey that his name is Erik, but Charles secretly suspects that it’s something longer and unpronounceable for humans. He gives the man a small smile and looks down into the cup given to him. The liquid inside is dark and odorless, and it would remind him of coffee if not for a pink bubbles resurfacing time and again. He doesn’t think he’s hungry enough to try it.

“You need to eat.” Erik says from around his shoulders and although his face is blank as usual, Charles thinks he can detect a small frown between the two immaculate eyebrows. Or it’s his wishful thinking. “According to Magneto you haven’t eaten since we boarded.”

Charles blinks and looks at the man blankly for a minute before he remembers that Magneto is the ship’s name. So it appears the ship isn’t as dead as Earth’s would be. That’s not reassuring at all.

“I’m not hungry.” He says, just because the captain expects him to answer and assumes it would be enough for the man to leave and go back to his responsibilities. Although it the ship is alive, he doesn’t know what does it need a captain for. To his surprise the man makes disgruntled noise and crowds closer to him, and soon Charles finds himself pinned to the window by the bigger man’s body.

“Nutrition is necessary for survival. No food means no nutrition means death from starvation and dehydration. Not on my watch.” Erik says and Charles doesn’t even have time to protest before the cup of liquid is pressed to his lips and he’s forced to swallow its contest. It’s unexpectedly tasty and he licks his lips after the captain moves away to give him some space.

He should have known to not doubt the race that just swept from the sky to save them. Or maybe he should, if it’s put like that.

“Thank you.” He says. “I promise to eat regularly from now on.”

Erik nods and moves away and Charles doesn’t wish he’d stay longer at all. He can get used to loneliness, it’s not a problem at all.

~*~

Their saviors shockingly don’t look much different from humans. They are all tall and thin, but it may be just Charles’ impression, because he was always rather small in comparison to everyone. Raven used to tease him about it and he’d never though he might be missing it. He spends a lot of time just observing the race that is intelligent enough not only to predict an extinction of species, but also compassionate enough to want to prevent it.

They all have slightly pointy ears and he heard few humans whispering amusedly about Spock and Vulcans. The comparison isn’t exactly misused as the staff of the ship is as unfeeling as they are smart and helpful. But it can’t be true, Charles wonders. They not only saved them, but seem to genuinely care about the wellbeing of every one of saved humans. They still might have some ulterior motive, but Charles always liked to believe in the best of everyone so he tries not to think about it.

Instead he focuses on his research. He’s a scientist, study of an inquiry is like a second nature to him. He finds out that they eat and drink as humans do, but they don’t seem to need to use any facilities to get rid of bodily waste. It takes him to realization that he doesn’t remember when he needed to use toilet last time and brings forward longing for a laboratory where he could see what’s inside the mystery liquid.

It’s also very clear that they form a close, emphatic society, but they don’t know much about affection. He’s seen the ship’s navigator, name by the name of Janos (possibly), stand in the middle of the corridor with his head curiously cocked, just observing mother holding her daughter and whispering stories into her small ear. Charles thinks they’re awfully sad creatures, but he keeps his opinion to himself.

They’re obviously awfully intelligent and much stronger than any human. Charles deducted it after one the ship’s guards broke up the fight between two human men without small effort, and then raised them into air by their arms as if they weighted nothing. There were no fights since then. He himself, would love to find out if it’s only strength or does it include speed and stamina, but he can hardly ask someone to run through the corridor, because he’s curious. It’s a shame, but he’ll survive.

There is also the fact that all of them have crazy sharp cheekbones. Charles doesn’t know if it’s familial trait or if it’s something of the race’s bone structure, but he would love to find out. Alas, it would be rude to just ask so he has to keep the questions to himself.

It’s all very frustrating.

~*~

So Charles might be aware that this whole research idea is only something he uses to take his mind out of the worry about Raven and his friends. He tends to not think about it, but he’s forced to when there is nothing left to find out in the lifestyle they’re living in without asking questions. And he really doesn’t want to offend anyone and end up thrown out of the ship. He started to like Magneto, the whirring of the ship’s insides lulling him to sleep in his spot near the window every night (or day, it’s hard to tell time in space and Charles clearly realizes that it hardly matters and just goes to sleep whenever he’s tired). It almost sounds like a lullaby, intended to comfort and he can think for at least a little while that he’s not as alone as he really is.

But then his research runs out and he finds himself with more and more free time on his hands. He was never good with people so he’s a little wary of just approaching a group of them and spending time in their company. So he stays in his spot and looks out into space. It’s all that’s left for him to do.

He notices that he doesn’t eat as regularly as he promised the captain he would, but he figures that just as long as he’s alive it won’t be a problem. He fancies the sounds of the ship grow worried with every day that passes, but he knows logically that it’s highly improbable. Who is he in the face of the entire race? He’s just a speck of the dust. He wouldn’t be surprised if no one would ever notice if he really died, propped against his window like that.

Anyway, he thinks like that before the captain plops before him again this time looking irritated. Well, as irritated as these creatures tend to look, which is to say not very. Charles observed them for a time though so he can tell. It puzzles him a little before Erik shoves a cup of the liquid in his direction. Ah, so someone did notice.

Charles sighs and obediently drinks the contents of the plastic glass. He gives it back and turns back to his window, sure that the captain will leave now that Charles did his bidding. He’s surprised to find the man’s hand on his shoulder instead. And then he’s pulled into a hug and he would be frozen shocked, if it wasn’t a hug and he wasn’t absolutely starved for any kind of touch and affection.

“It is supposed to be Earth’s gesture of comfort. Is it working?” Erik says from somewhere above Charles’ ear and he gives out what was going to be a chuckle but came out as a more of a sob instead.

“Yes. Yes, it’s working. Thank you.” He says and burrows closer, tightening his arms around the captain, in case the man would get an idea that it means he should let go.

Erik gives him hugs roughly one or two times a day and he soon finds himself spending more time on the captain’s bridge than on his lonely spot by the window. He knows it’s not much, but maybe for now he can pretend that it’s enough.