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aeshna_ukTitle: Between the Forest and the Field
Author: Aeshna
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Rating: PG, gen
Word count: 403
Characters: Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, Moira MacTaggert
Warnings: Character death
Summary: He wonders how hard the Neanderthals fought.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no matter how many comics and toys I buy! Everything here belongs to Marvel and Fox.
Notes: So, another alternate take on the beach scene. This was one of those (thankfully short) bunnies that sank its teeth in just as I was falling asleep – just as well that I always have a notebook within reach. :) Feedback of any variety is very much appreciated but not compulsory – I'll post anyway! I've suffered for my art, now it's your turn....
He rocks back from the blow to his face and for a moment isn't sure that the stars exploding in his vision aren't missiles. It hurts, fuck it hurts... but it doesn't matter, because then they're rolling, limbs flailing, and he's got the tips of three fingers beneath the grey not-metal curve of that damned helm and –
He doesn't know where he finds the strength to wrench it free, but after that it's easy, slamming in to wrap himself hard around Erik's mind, to pin him down with will alone. The sands are hot beneath his knees even through the flightsuit fabric, the skies ablaze with exploding ordinance, and Erik's thoughts are – fear love need fury passion hope fear – not what he'd expected, not at all, all wild and desperate emotion threaded through with the need to protect where he had been unable before –
"Charles! That's it – hold him!"
– and he has to make a choice now, he knows, because Moira's mind is – relief fear duty determination focus need relief – alive with emotion too as she stumbles the last few steps to stand astride Erik's captive form, her resolve as steady as her two-handed grip as she aims her sidearm at his temple, too close to miss –
He hears Raven's scream, a choked curse from Alex, and – finish this now – why can't he SEE? – too powerful, unpredictable – round us all up – only way – won't let them – too wilful, can't control – not again, NEVER again – nail the homicidal bastard right between the – abruptly realises that Erik is right: that there is, in the end, only this, only ever this.
Us and them. Old and new.
He wonders how hard the Neanderthals fought.
He can feel Moira's finger tight against the trigger, can feel her utter certainty just as he can feel Erik's, each of them desperate to defend their own against the other's. And he... he has to choose between them and choose now, no matter how much he wishes otherwise; has to choose if he will be a dog or a wolf, if he will defend the pack or obey another in the hunt. And it will be a hunt, he knows, because they're aware of them now and the next time he steps into a Cerebro unit....
They. Them. Oh.
Suddenly this is easy too.
He releases Erik as Moira fires, but she's dead even before her own bullet finds her throat.
~ fin ~
Author: Aeshna
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Rating: PG, gen
Word count: 403
Characters: Charles Xavier, Erik Lehnsherr, Moira MacTaggert
Warnings: Character death
Summary: He wonders how hard the Neanderthals fought.
Disclaimer: Not mine, no matter how many comics and toys I buy! Everything here belongs to Marvel and Fox.
Notes: So, another alternate take on the beach scene. This was one of those (thankfully short) bunnies that sank its teeth in just as I was falling asleep – just as well that I always have a notebook within reach. :) Feedback of any variety is very much appreciated but not compulsory – I'll post anyway! I've suffered for my art, now it's your turn....
He rocks back from the blow to his face and for a moment isn't sure that the stars exploding in his vision aren't missiles. It hurts, fuck it hurts... but it doesn't matter, because then they're rolling, limbs flailing, and he's got the tips of three fingers beneath the grey not-metal curve of that damned helm and –
He doesn't know where he finds the strength to wrench it free, but after that it's easy, slamming in to wrap himself hard around Erik's mind, to pin him down with will alone. The sands are hot beneath his knees even through the flightsuit fabric, the skies ablaze with exploding ordinance, and Erik's thoughts are – fear love need fury passion hope fear – not what he'd expected, not at all, all wild and desperate emotion threaded through with the need to protect where he had been unable before –
"Charles! That's it – hold him!"
– and he has to make a choice now, he knows, because Moira's mind is – relief fear duty determination focus need relief – alive with emotion too as she stumbles the last few steps to stand astride Erik's captive form, her resolve as steady as her two-handed grip as she aims her sidearm at his temple, too close to miss –
He hears Raven's scream, a choked curse from Alex, and – finish this now – why can't he SEE? – too powerful, unpredictable – round us all up – only way – won't let them – too wilful, can't control – not again, NEVER again – nail the homicidal bastard right between the – abruptly realises that Erik is right: that there is, in the end, only this, only ever this.
Us and them. Old and new.
He wonders how hard the Neanderthals fought.
He can feel Moira's finger tight against the trigger, can feel her utter certainty just as he can feel Erik's, each of them desperate to defend their own against the other's. And he... he has to choose between them and choose now, no matter how much he wishes otherwise; has to choose if he will be a dog or a wolf, if he will defend the pack or obey another in the hunt. And it will be a hunt, he knows, because they're aware of them now and the next time he steps into a Cerebro unit....
They. Them. Oh.
Suddenly this is easy too.
He releases Erik as Moira fires, but she's dead even before her own bullet finds her throat.
~ fin ~
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Date: 2012-01-25 11:10 am (UTC)