They end up sending everyone away without telling them, though Charles pulls Raven aside and fills her in quickly, because he's trying to be better about keeping secrets from her and she'd figure out something was wrong even if he didn't say anything.
"Holy shit," is her reaction, and she hugs him. "You must hate this," she says.
"Is it that obvious?" He shifts. He's unaccustomed to being this much taller than her, it's very disconcerting.
"Only moderately so," she says, her mouth quirking in that way she does when she's poking fun at him a little. "Do you need me to stay to help you figure out what happened?"
"No," Charles says, though they do have to work on that at some point. "I think my first priority must be to help Erik with some shields."
"Oh, damn," she says, because of course she'd see the problem. She's been present for some of his worse moments, after all.
"Quite," he says.
"Okay, we'll get out of your hair. I'll come back later and check on you, okay?" she says, and Charles nods, before turning back to Erik.
Whose eyes are closed, most likely from the strain. "She really doesn't like herself," Erik says to the ceiling.
"I know," Charles says. "But that is fairly clear without reading her mind."
Erik blinks, looking straight at Charles. "You--you always do, though."
"No," Charles says. "I never read her mind, in point of fact. I do catch stray thoughts, it's virtually impossible not to, but she, I promised her. And so I don't." He thinks about the time he slipped when he was ill, and how Raven hadn't been quite able to look him in the face for weeks. He knows Erik will see all of that, too.
"Sorry," Erik says, closing his eyes again. "It does seem rather rude to chastise you for this when I can't help going too far myself."
"It's not your fault," Charles says, and he's glad he's good at sorting through his thoughts, because he, right, better steer clear of that. He blinks, imagining a sheet of opaque glass sliding down around himself, and even if he's in another body, it's still his mind, and he can see the strain around Erik's eyes easing.
"What did you--"
"Shields," Charles says, frowning in concentration. "It appears I can still do that."
Of course, that's when he brings every single wall decoration that involves metal in some way (one old sword, three daggers, the hatstand and five shelves) down. Ooops.
PART 2 (HOW DOES THIS END? IDK OH GOD) (ALSO THIS IS SOME SORT OF MID-MOVIE THING)
They end up sending everyone away without telling them, though Charles pulls Raven aside and fills her in quickly, because he's trying to be better about keeping secrets from her and she'd figure out something was wrong even if he didn't say anything.
"Holy shit," is her reaction, and she hugs him. "You must hate this," she says.
"Is it that obvious?" He shifts. He's unaccustomed to being this much taller than her, it's very disconcerting.
"Only moderately so," she says, her mouth quirking in that way she does when she's poking fun at him a little. "Do you need me to stay to help you figure out what happened?"
"No," Charles says, though they do have to work on that at some point. "I think my first priority must be to help Erik with some shields."
"Oh, damn," she says, because of course she'd see the problem. She's been present for some of his worse moments, after all.
"Quite," he says.
"Okay, we'll get out of your hair. I'll come back later and check on you, okay?" she says, and Charles nods, before turning back to Erik.
Whose eyes are closed, most likely from the strain. "She really doesn't like herself," Erik says to the ceiling.
"I know," Charles says. "But that is fairly clear without reading her mind."
Erik blinks, looking straight at Charles. "You--you always do, though."
"No," Charles says. "I never read her mind, in point of fact. I do catch stray thoughts, it's virtually impossible not to, but she, I promised her. And so I don't." He thinks about the time he slipped when he was ill, and how Raven hadn't been quite able to look him in the face for weeks. He knows Erik will see all of that, too.
"Sorry," Erik says, closing his eyes again. "It does seem rather rude to chastise you for this when I can't help going too far myself."
"It's not your fault," Charles says, and he's glad he's good at sorting through his thoughts, because he, right, better steer clear of that. He blinks, imagining a sheet of opaque glass sliding down around himself, and even if he's in another body, it's still his mind, and he can see the strain around Erik's eyes easing.
"What did you--"
"Shields," Charles says, frowning in concentration. "It appears I can still do that."
Of course, that's when he brings every single wall decoration that involves metal in some way (one old sword, three daggers, the hatstand and five shelves) down. Ooops.