wedonot | EIGHTY TWO ✖ VIDEO

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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.]

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He shouldn't. [Erik was always the better man, and Charles has accepted a long time ago that he'll go to whatever lengths necessary to keep him alive and as hopeful as possible. No one should be surprised, and Erik should know that Charles had a choice. It wasn't his to make.

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.]

Edited 2014-02-22 06:16 (UTC)

[She is trapped and she is monstrous, and his anger on her behalf is - strange. Touching, buoying. Her smile widens, but she turns away, walking around his room.]

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.]

[He watches her, hovers on the periphery of her mind, picking up on snapshots instead of diving in and seeing the whole thing.]

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.]

I know. [The laugh surprises even her, and she shakes her head at it.] I do.

[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.]

[They are, and it infuriates him. This place is always going to trap him, always force him to confront and realize what an awful person he actually is, show him in exquisite details all the things he did and didn't do that wound up costing him everything, and he wants to scream.

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.]

[She's silent at first. Maybe it's a ghost of who she was in her thoughts, maybe - it could be something else, but she brushes it aside all the same. Whatever it is that urges her, she crosses over to him, settles a hand on his shoulder.]

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.]

[Charles can't quite look at her at first, isn't sure he deserves comfort even if this woman has less reason to give him false reassurances than the one he knows. He feels more vulnerable and flayed open than he's ever been comfortable being, and it's difficult not to feel alone here, even if she's trying to help.

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.

You'll know either way, eventually. [Her hand shifts, sliding up to cup his face only briefly before dropping to her side again.]

You might as well take whatever comfort you can, here. You don't often have to fear someone stabbing you in the back.

[As brief as it is, he still leans into it, and he's too stubborn to care that he'd done it. This is still Morgana, the man he'd seen on the old transmission was still Erik. He might not be a good person, but he's experienced enough with things like this to know what and who his weak spots are, and that it's better not to fight them too hard.

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?

Not especially. [She is teasing, no undercurrent necessary.] I'm much more prone to coming at a problem head on.

I know. [And he does. He admires that.

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.

[She does, and she doesn't. She's proud of what she's done and she hates herself. There are days when she hates Merlin and Arthur not for what they've done, but for what they didn't do.

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.]

[It surprises him, but not in a bad way at all. He kisses her back almost immediately, doesn't question it, doesn't think at all about how this might be weird for her or his counterpart afterward.

She's not perfect, but neither is he, and she deserves so much more than what she's gotten. He loves her, and it's good to know that she's still capable and confident and willing to live with her choices.

His next move is cautious, not wanting to overstep here while still wanting to be closer, so his hand settles gently on her hip and deepens the kiss a little, suggesting rather than pushing.]

[In dedicating her life to magic and its freedom, to getting her throne at any cost, she sacrificed a world of experiences. Love, or something like it; a family; old age. Some things she hasn't reclaimed, probably never will, but not letting moments like these pass her by - that Morgana has taken to.

She shifts against his hand, threads her fingers through the hair at the back of his head, and when she does finally pull away, it's almost grudgingly.

Maybe if he were to stay, maybe if they could inhabit the same world - but the Charles who thinks of her as a sister will be back, and she is all too familiar with how disturbing flood memories can be when everything is back to normal.]

[There's some regret when she pulls away, but it's fleeting. It's not as if he doesn't understand that it would be stupid of them to start something here, as disappointing as it is in some ways that they don't come from the same place.

He still loves the Morgana he knows, doesn't love her more or less, but she's almost unattainable in a different way. Had things been different, this Morgana and this Charles could have done a lot together, and it's a shame they have hours, days at most to explore that possibility.

So his smile is sort of wry when she pulls back, and he gently cups her cheek for a brief moment.]

I'm glad you decided to check up on me.

[She smiles, sharp but sweet, and rests her palm against his chest briefly before stepping away entirely. If their paths had crossed differently - it doesn't bear thinking on now.]

So am I. And now that I have, I ought to leave you to it.

Something tells me you have much to learn from this room.

Probably. [He can admit that at least, even if there's a part of him that's pretty sure he doesn't actually want to learn much from what's here.

This all belongs to someone who hadn't made the same mistakes, the same sacrifices, and he's apparently happy and has more or less what he wants. It's difficult not to stand here and think about how easily this could have been his, and how now it's so far out of reach.

That same part that wants to leave the room and not come back wants to ask her to stay, or if he can leave with her, but he's always been good about torturing himself. Maybe going through this other person's things will give him a better idea of what to expect here, of what had happened to Erik.]

I'm certain I'll be seeing more of you.

[She had the same thoughts, when the flood had ended and she'd remembered every detail of that life. It could have been hers - maybe not so easily as the change for Charles, but had the coins fallen a different way, had fate shifted to the side, Arthur's life would have been hers. She exhales around that desire, and keeps the smile on instead.]

Yes, [She agrees, heading for the door.] One way or another, you will.

[One me or another.]

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EIGHTY TWO ✖ VIDEO

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