[Charles hesitates near the door for a long moment before crossing over and sitting down next to him. There's space between them, but there's still light telepathic contact, just enough to say that he's here and listening, and to reassure them both - or maybe just Charles, who's been incredibly worried since he heard what happened - that they're alive.
Usually, he would start saying that he understands, but it wasn't him. That Alex would never be like that, that they're different people, and that's true, but he's been having a hard time separating himself from the person he'd been there, too. Admittedly, at least part of that has to do with the fact that he'd effectively been Erik, but it's not hard to see how one decision might have changed his life in a way that would have warped him, turned him bitter and angry and scared, willing to lash out at an entire species to protect people from what had happened to him as a child. And his anger had gotten someone he loved killed.
He'd like to pretend that the line between him and that sort of rage was thicker.]
I understand. [And for a moment, he can still feel himself relating with his counterpart, because he'd loved Alex in his own way there, but he hadn't known how to help him the way he'd like to. And here and now, he's not sure what to do, either. There's a part of him that wishes he could do something as simple as wrapping him up in a blanket and hugging him to help ease the pain and frustration, but it's not that easy. He's not a little kid.
So instead of offering a solution, or trying to tell him what he's sure dozens of other people have already tried to force on him, he just puts out the offer as simply as he can: he wants to help. Tell him what to do.]
Can I do anything?
[Do you need to talk, cry, yell, just sit here quietly, it's all wrapped up in there.]
spam
Usually, he would start saying that he understands, but it wasn't him. That Alex would never be like that, that they're different people, and that's true, but he's been having a hard time separating himself from the person he'd been there, too. Admittedly, at least part of that has to do with the fact that he'd effectively been Erik, but it's not hard to see how one decision might have changed his life in a way that would have warped him, turned him bitter and angry and scared, willing to lash out at an entire species to protect people from what had happened to him as a child. And his anger had gotten someone he loved killed.
He'd like to pretend that the line between him and that sort of rage was thicker.]
I understand. [And for a moment, he can still feel himself relating with his counterpart, because he'd loved Alex in his own way there, but he hadn't known how to help him the way he'd like to. And here and now, he's not sure what to do, either. There's a part of him that wishes he could do something as simple as wrapping him up in a blanket and hugging him to help ease the pain and frustration, but it's not that easy. He's not a little kid.
So instead of offering a solution, or trying to tell him what he's sure dozens of other people have already tried to force on him, he just puts out the offer as simply as he can: he wants to help. Tell him what to do.]
Can I do anything?
[Do you need to talk, cry, yell, just sit here quietly, it's all wrapped up in there.]