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EIGHTY TWO ✖ VIDEO
[This post comes within minutes of the flood announcement, because Charles knows something is wrong the second it hits, even if he's still distracted and furious (with himself and the Barge, and their entire desperate situation), and it's that fury that he grips onto instinctively.
It's been what's fueling him for years. Even if he knows now how badly he'd screwed up, it's still a crutch that feels more often like a weapon he wouldn't be able to fight without.
He's in his room, and for anyone who remembers his counterpart on the other Barge, he's not dressed strangely, necessarily. Or, at least, you're probably used to seeing him walking around in the dark cape, maroon jacket and slacks, black boots and gloves, especially in his early days on the Barge. There's an unmistakeable crackle of telepathic energy for anyone on his access filter, enough to cause a uncomfortable headache and getting worse.
There's no hiding his fury in his voice or his expression because suddenly the only thing that's really mattered to him in the last twenty four hours is gone, and one of you is clearly responsible for it.]
You all have two minutes to tell me what you did to Erik before I make you rip yourselves apart.
[It's a threat he fully intends on carrying out, is fully capable of carrying out, but it's also one he can be talked down from relatively easily. He just doesn't realize it yet.]
It's been what's fueling him for years. Even if he knows now how badly he'd screwed up, it's still a crutch that feels more often like a weapon he wouldn't be able to fight without.
He's in his room, and for anyone who remembers his counterpart on the other Barge, he's not dressed strangely, necessarily. Or, at least, you're probably used to seeing him walking around in the dark cape, maroon jacket and slacks, black boots and gloves, especially in his early days on the Barge. There's an unmistakeable crackle of telepathic energy for anyone on his access filter, enough to cause a uncomfortable headache and getting worse.
There's no hiding his fury in his voice or his expression because suddenly the only thing that's really mattered to him in the last twenty four hours is gone, and one of you is clearly responsible for it.]
You all have two minutes to tell me what you did to Erik before I make you rip yourselves apart.
[It's a threat he fully intends on carrying out, is fully capable of carrying out, but it's also one he can be talked down from relatively easily. He just doesn't realize it yet.]
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Are you in your room?
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[Why. :|]
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He just almost immediately turns away and continues surveying the room his counterpart clearly lives in, not sure what to make of all of this.]
What do you want?
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What are you wearing?
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He just really doesn't know what to make of all of it.]
I could ask you the same thing. [She's different.]
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Things are different, when your throne is denied you.
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Still. As much experience as he's had with floods and breaches, it's difficult not to hear her, to see her and not think of the woman he knows, one of the only other people he genuinely cares for on the ship.
He wonders if she remembers he kissed her. He's not sure he wants the answer to be yes.]
What is he like?
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Morgana looks around the room, lets the surroundings piece him together.]
Kind. Good hearted. Things were difficult for him, for a time, but...He found a way through. He's not so angry as you. [Her eyes settle on him again, thoughtful.]
You lived different lives.
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That much is obvious.
[He shuts one of the photo albums, adjusts a stack of books on an end table. He feels like a stranger in his own home, even if no room in the mansion has ever really felt like home to him. Even after they'd retreated there to regroup and prepare, it hadn't.
Eventually, he turns back to her, focuses his attention away from his counterpart.]
Why did you come?
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It seemed like a good idea. I can go if you'd prefer.
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[He doesn't move, and he doesn't ask her to leave. He still trusts her, even if everything feels off, like how everything in this room seems to make sense except that it doesn't, because this isn't his life and he's never going to live it.
It's not even that he resents his counterpart. It's just strange.]
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Here, she smiles. When this is over, no doubt Charles will be disappointed, but she is not concerned with acting for his benefit. Not for anyone's benefit.]
You wouldn't be the only one. But he would hate himself, when this is over.
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The smile is strange, and he watches her with interest, maybe even concern.]
What happened to you, Morgana? [It's not accusatory, it's not disappointed. The protectiveness and righteous anger surrounding the idea of Erik being hurt surrounds her too, and he hates, hates that even in a better world, one where this place is meant to give second chances instead of create more monsters, she's still trapped.
It isn't fair. He doesn't care what this woman has done: she deserves better than this.]
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I lived a very different life. No throne, no crown, no one to trust or trust in me.
[No Merlin to love or love her, no brother to mourn over, no connection to anyone to keep her strong and tempered. She is terribly bitter for the things that Morgana had.]
I'm not the queen you know. [And he isn't the professor she knows. She almost wishes she could know him better, this way.]
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I don't care. [And he doesn't. This might be a flood, and who knows whether or not she's real, if this place is, or if he's the one that's just a construct of the Barge.]
You still deserve more than this.
[He still loves her.]
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[She deserves more than being trapped. Than being put through hell. She deserves more than losing her focus and her passion, she deserves more than having to crawl and claw her way back to something that's barely normal. Her anger flares, heedless of his hovering.]
You're right. [She could love him, like this. But they're on the wrong sides of the mirror.]
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He wants Erik, too. Even if it had been this other version of him - one that seems too similar to himself - it would at least be something, some reassurance and familiar comfort.
He wants to look to Morgana for that, too, and there's a small, childish part of him that's likely a scar from years he'd rather not remember that wants to turn to her and bury his face in her shoulder, while another, far less childish part wants to kiss her breathless and hold her close, prove that someone loves her just the way she is and that she should love herself, too. She owes herself that much.
But he does neither, glances away uncomfortably.]
I saw Erik's graduation message. [And his voice sounds hollow, bitter.] And I know what's going to happen when this is over.
[To him, he means. He's going to die, and something in Erik will snap and after that... who knows. Erik hadn't, and no one else here will, either.
He looks back at her, and his expression is... complicated. Angry and bitter and desperately unhappy, and his voice is rough.]
I'm glad at least one of his counterparts is free.
[He means it. He might be a monster, but Erik deserved so much more than he had in life, on the Barge, everything, and he wants this for the man he knows more than he could possibly articulate.]
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He was the first through the Admiral's door. Maybe he is free, now.
[For Charles' sake, she hopes it. For the bitter, angry man in front of her, she hopes they both will be.]
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He does finally meet her eyes though, and he's not surprised by the compassion, or resentful of it, even if he still doesn't quite know how to react to it.]
I hope so.
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You might as well take whatever comfort you can, here. You don't often have to fear someone stabbing you in the back.
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The corner of his mouth ticks up in a wry smile, and there's definitely a current of something teasing in his words.]
Do I have to worry about that with you?
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He changes the topic abruptly, and if he had better manners, it probably wouldn't have happened at all, because it's referring to something that no one's really said out loud. Not here and now, anyway.]
You shouldn't have to apologize for anything you've done. Not to anyone. I don't care what you've done or what this place is supposed to be helping you with. It's still true.
You're- [And there's a lot he wants to say, but ends up keeping it simple, expression serious and concerned.] An exceptional person, Morgana, in any universe. I hope you realize that.
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Charles, this Charles, is more violent than the one she knows best. But knows best is a tricky thing to say: she still remembers the other Barge, the memories she held there. She knew that Charles very well, too. And he finds her exceptional. He doesn't care what she's done, doesn't hold it against her.
Morgana closes the distance between them on the heels of his words, cupping his cheek again and kissing him soundly. She doesn't have to apologize for anything.]
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