Who: Erik and Judith What: Reading each other's books When: Day 2 Where: The Library Warnings: Mild Status: Complete
Erik was fine with Judith reading his book, for the same reasons she was fine with him reading hers. He had nothing to hide from her, and there were parts of his life he would never want to openly discuss, regardless of whether or not he really wanted her to know about them. He wasn’t even sure that he wanted to read his own book, for the sake of not having to revisit it.
And he certainly would have preferred not to have been sitting across from her as she read it, torn between glancing at her to gauge her reaction and decidedly not looking at her, keeping his focus on the book in his hands.
It was a volume thicker than his own, with Charles Xavier written on the spine in elegant cursive. He wasn’t going to read everything- he’d stop when they met. For all of the personal details Charles knew of Erik’s past, Erik knew very few of Charles’s.
His discomfort was subtle. Now and then he did glance towards her, only briefly. He’d shift slightly in his seat without realizing it, and he found himself re-reading pages more than once. He trusted Judith, and he wanted her to know everything she wanted to, but this felt just as invasive than having Charles in his mind, digging for pieces of his past.
There had been at least two people in Judith’s adult life back ‘home’ that mentioned what a field day psychologists of the Old world would have with her, and she typically agreed with such a statement, given certain circumstances. Judith had already read her own book at the very beginning of the week for reasons she didn’t bother defining, save for wanting to know if it shed light on a few mysteries of her life- and it did. From her true parentage that Michael hinted at to more detail about her father- Negan’s- adopting her, the heavily-illustrated volume gave her a few new perspectives from which to view her life as it had been to that point. However, those new ideas hadn’t exactly fundamentally changed her- far from it. If anything, she felt validated, maybe even personally stronger- also for reasons she couldn’t define.
Either way, she didn’t feel the same discomfort that seemed to flicker in Erik’s eyes when they discussed reading each other’s books; she trusted him implicitly, and the thought of him knowing every dark cranny of her life didn’t feel like exposure like it would literally anyone else (save for Negan). As she methodically made her way through his volume, she noticed the subtle glances from across the small sitting table, the shifting of his feet by the base of the chair. Most others probably wouldn’t have even picked up on it, considering Erik’s affinity for being stone-cold composed nearly one hundred percent of the time. That, of course, was one of the reasons why it stood out like a broken bone to Judith.
She’d just passed the chapter where the younger version of him had tracked down a pair of death camp operatives to enact some very well-deserved revenge when the discomfort radiating off him became simply impossible to ignore.
“Either you somehow got it in your head that I’m about to attack you for no reason,” she started in her usual quiet voice, without looking up from the book. “-or you’ve got a bug up your ass about me reading this…”
Erik didn’t glance up from his book, stopping himself in the middle of shifting slightly in his seat. He realized he should have expected as much, but he hadn’t been completely aware of just how obvious his discomfort was. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to read it- it was the opposite, but that didn’t make sitting there while she read every detail about his life any easier.
“I don’t have any problem with you reading it,” he said honestly after a few moments of silence, glancing up from his book. He couldn’t quite place exactly why it made him uncomfortable, except for the fact that he’d never shared that many personal details with anyone, except for his telepathic friend, and that hadn’t been entirely by choice. It was new territory for him, and he hadn’t expected it to make him so fidgety. “I hadn’t been planning on being around while you read it.” He flipped the page of Charles’s book, although admittedly, he hadn’t actually read what was on it.
Only then did Judith lift her eyes from his book- after what sounded strangely like an admission. Erik rarely did anything without some sort of plan, and even fewer were the instances that he would squirm and fidget rather than do something about his discomfort. She studied him for a few beats, adjusting her position in the chair so one foot planted on it’s edge, her knee comfortably bent close to her chest, and rested the book in her hand on her belly, pages down.
“So go somewhere else?” She said it like suggestion, though considering the obviousness of the solution, Judith couldn’t remove all the incredulousness from her tone. It was born out of curiosity. Why was he doing this to himself? “Take my book if it makes you feel better-” she added, twisting down to the little foot-table by her chair to grab the graphic novel with her name across the front, handing it to him.
Erik opted for silence rather than make up an excuse as to why he wouldn’t be going elsewhere. There was no deceiving Judith, and he wouldn’t want to, anyway. If she really wanted to know why he wasn’t leaving, she could ask, and he would tell her. But for now, he was quiet as he leaned forward and reached out to take her book. He hadn’t read it yet, and it would likely hold his attention better than Charles’s did.
He switched books, setting his friend’s aside, but he didn’t go to find somewhere else to read. He stayed where he was, and remained decidedly focused on Judith’s book. The fact that it had pictures had intrigued him the first time he’d seen the cover. It didn’t have much to actually read besides dialogue, but the pictures told more than enough story to make up for it, and he could remember the week in her world well enough to have more of a sense of what it actually looked like.
Even after Erik shifted his focus to her life story, she continued to study him for a good while, though mostly with discretion. He certainly wasn’t fidgeting anymore, in fact there were times she had to subtly watch his eyes or his chest to make sure he was still breathing; he’d gone stone still, a sign of the typical intensity she knew so well (and appreciated in more ways than one)- but one mystery still remained. The reluctance to find his own space still baffled her. They enjoyed each other’s company without effort, but he had as much a need for independence as she did- so why the change…
After a few minutes, Judith decided to back-table the thought in favor of finishing the book in her hands. Maybe the answer was inside.
Though Erik took his time looking over each one of the pictures, Judith’s book was a fairly quick read given how thick it was. He knew a decent amount about her life already- at least some of the bigger events- but there was a lot, especially in her early life, that he hadn’t known, and while he knew details of her adult life, seeing them on paper was different. And he could really see them, drawn out in graphic detail, every painful moment and emotion, every difficult decision. The book didn’t tell him anything new about her, so much as it cemented what he already knew, and gave him more respect for her, if it was possible. It showed him more similarities between the two of them.
If anything, he was slightly disappointed when it came to a strange, abrupt end, and it occurred to him that was likely where the hotel had picked her up. When he was finished, he flipped the back cover shut, looking at it for a few moments with his hand resting on it like he was letting what he’d finished reading sink in. He lifted his gaze to Judith, still reading his book, watching her for a few moments.
“You’re a remarkable woman, Judith,” he said, his voice quiet enough to match the tone of the Library, but no less filled with respect. Any unease from before had seemingly been forgotten, at least while he was thinking about hers. He didn’t expect her to stop reading his, but he wanted to acknowledge hers for what it was before he went back to reading Charles’s while she finished.
As it was, she'd just reached the midpoint of the final chapter in Erik's book when his movement pulled her back from her own deep concentration and interest; Erik had just been sent to the prison that no government would agknowledge, following the story he had already told her, but in far greater detail- for good reason, she thought rightly.
Putting her thoughts on hold, curiosity and something else a bit more dangerous- like a mortal sin- flashed in her eyes, eerily similar to the illustration of her on the book cover, they set on his face after the compliment. Maybe it wasn't meant to be praise, more than a vocal affirmation. By reflex, she scanned his tone for surprise, and found none.
That alone made her smile.
“I'm just not stupid,” she added softly, leaning back in her chair and switching bent legs. “Most people are.”
It's been her religion growing up, with Negan at it's unholy center; people aren't smart enough to know what's good for them, so those that are need to be at the top. Helping the food chain along.
Erik smirked, just a little, because he’d seen Negan tell her that time and time again in her book. Now that he’d seen how she’d been raised, he had a new respect for her father, as well. While he had no doubt from the way he acted that Negan was a devoted father, reading it was an entirely different story.
How he’d come to be her father was a little more unsavory, but their world was so vastly different from his that he didn’t feel he could judge every decision he didn’t agree with. In the end, it had undoubtedly been the better path for her. She was alive, and her father had helped her grow into a woman who was powerful by her own right.
“It’s more than intelligence,” he said. “You have passion, and you use it.” She’d started building an empire at the age of sixteen. It was no easy task. More than that, he knew intimately the passion that burned like fire behind killing her father’s murderers- he’d known the same for years when he hunted down his mother’s. “It’s very fortunate your father is here with you.”
Judith loved that tiny smirk that went so well with Erik's eyes, even more so now that it came with such intimate knowledge of her life; Eliot had warned her that most people didn't like the main character of their story, but she was an exception. Maybe the exception; she was proud of her life, and beamed in her quiet manner, with dark, dangerous waters beneath, when Erik seemed to share the sentiment.
Though something about his final thought struck an odd chord with her. It seemed… out of place, or connected to something else that hadn't been said. Her initial thought was that he spoke out of emotion, knowing she knew much more about his murdered mother now than before, but she couldn't be sure.
“Why do you say that?” She asked, genuinely imploring him to clarify.
Erik very rarely spoke about his mother, or any of his early life, with anyone, including Judith, but the very real love her father had for her had struck a chord with him, and he could practically feel the stab of pain she’d felt when Negan died in her arms. They’d both been helpless to defend their parents, and they’d both been trapped in that regard. Revenge was their freedom.
“I would never want my mother to be here,” he said, sighing as he set her book to the side so he could pick Charles’s up again. “But I’d give anything to see her again.” There was no jealousy behind the statement, only quiet honesty.
Her assumption had been right, and the reality of it softened her expression as she watched him exchange books and relive memories for which she now had gritty imagery in her head. His story was heart breaking- then again, not a single person in Judith's life had one that wasn't. Life was pain at various levels of tolerability- at least, until she ended up here.
“You know, our reunion wasn't exactly sunshine and rainbows,” she decided to tell him, conversationally. It was still on topic enough to make sense without extending the pain about his mother more than necessary. She set his book down, saving the page, and stifled a colorless laugh with a sigh. “He didn't know who I was.
Erik looked over at her again, one eyebrow twitched slightly upwards. He knew Negan had gotten to the hotel before she did, but they’d never talked about their reunion. He could imagine that seeing him must have been a shock for her. If his mother appeared in the hotel, he’d likely think she wasn’t real. In Judith’s book, Negan died when she was sixteen, and though she certainly looked different now, she didn’t look that much different. The hair was more than enough to give her away.
“Really?” he asked. Then another thought occurred to him: Jesus was from their world- he was even in her book, though he had a fairly small role- but they had yet to meet each other. “How old were you when he was brought to the hotel?”
Despite the less-than-cheerful topic, Judith still liked to see the little note of surprise on his face. It wasn’t often she got to see it, but she carried her own bit of pride for being able to put it there more than most people.
“Two,” she answered. “Maybe three. Before he decided to make the longest day of summer my birthday, hard to tell.” One side of Judith’s mouth pulled into the band of freckles on her cheek- not a smirk, more than the manifestation of emotion too complex to put into words. “He remembers now- thanks to this place.” And the faded leather jacket she always woke up in the first day of the new week, and the marker in the pocket that no longer marked.
Erik tried to imagine what it would feel like if his mother arrived and didn’t know who he was. In reality, that was likely what would happen. He was so far from the boy she’d last known, there was no doubt in his mind that he would have to convince her of who he was. Hopefully, that would never be a concern.
His smile was gentle, and as understanding as it could be given what he knew about the hotel. It could do a number of things, and he wasn’t surprised it would have that sort of influence on its guests. It was fortunate that this sort of influence was positive.
“Does he know about the empire you built after he died?” he asked out of genuine curiosity. If he didn’t know, he could only imagine Negan’s reaction to it.
Judith cracked a small smile where her mouth pulled to the side, fluffing that cheek and crinkling the corner of that eye; she reached across the small table between them and picked up the book with her picture on the front.
“What details he didn’t have,” she started, then held the graphic novel up as display. “He does now.” And the reaction had been blatantly obvious, at least to her, when she dropped Vlad off at his room so that she could enter the Library, which apparently wouldn’t tolerate dogs.
Erik’s smiled matched hers, looking at her intense expression on the cover of her graphic novel, then at her smile again. Negan was certainly more likeable now that he’d read about him, even with his style of ruling. He had a newfound respect for him, and for the way he behaved. There was certainly a method to his madness.
“Thank you for letting me read it,” he said. He felt it was necessary. They’d discussed it earlier in the week, and had come to almost an immediate conclusion that they would be reading each other’s, but it was still significant, and he wouldn’t diminish it that. Her story was just as filled with pain and hardship as it was with strength and triumph, and this was as close to bearing their souls to one another as they would ever get.
“You’re the only one I would-” she sighed through a small, but genuine smile. That didn’t include her father, but she felt that was a given- Erik would already know that anyway. It wasn’t necessary to say.
But if she caught anyone else reading her book, her reaction would likely be a lot different.
“-and ditto,” Judith added, lightly patting the hard cover of his life book, all while keeping an eye on the glint in his eyes. “I know you ‘didn’t have a problem’ with me reading it-” She used his exact words from earlier for the reason of pointing out there was obviously some hang-up. If he wanted to tell her what it was, he would- otherwise, she found nothing in his life to that point that she felt was the obvious cause of his earlier squirming. Intimate details being shared, aside.
Erik caught the point in her statement, but he hadn’t been lying. He didn’t have any problem with her reading it. The only problem he had was that he hadn’t been planning on being around while she did, and while there wasn’t anything in his book he was expecting a bad reaction to, there were details that he’d never shared with anybody. He wasn’t sure why it needed to be pointed out that he was uncomfortable while she pored over every intimate detail of his life. Even someone with his self-certainty should have been afforded some room to be at least a little self conscious.
“I still don’t,” he said simply, flipping Charles’s book back open to where he’d been before. She still had some of his book left to read, although she’d undoubtedly reached the incredibly boring ending of it. He hadn’t read his book, save to see if the hotel was in it, and he’d found that it ended just before he arrived.
He went back to his friend’s book, but Judith still studied him for a few moments before diving back into the remaining ten or so pages she had left. Just like he’d said, he spent years in prison before being picked up by the hotel, but even if his book seemed to end there, Judith knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it wasn’t the end of his story. Just like the end of her own book wasn’t for her.
After flipping the last page, she quietly- and somewhat reverently- extracted herself from the chair and stretched the muscles in her back with linked hands pushed over her head. She wandered closer to where Erik was still reading, placed his book next to him so he could do with it as he pleased- in case he didn’t want others to read it without his knowledge, and leaned down to press a light kiss to the corner of his mouth, tilted upward by a finger under his chin.
“I need a drink,” she informed him mildly, straightening back up. “I’ll find you later.”
Erik lifted his head only when Judith came over to him, taking his eyes away from his book so he could catch her hand for a moment, giving it an absent-minded squeeze before he let go.
For the most part, he’d been doing a decent job of accompanying Judith around the hotel, or at the very least, making sure she wouldn’t be alone when she went off somewhere without him. The week before, he’d refused to let her out of his sight after she’d had her hand blown off, but neither did she seem too keen on leaving him. This week, the hotel seemed to be most back to whatever could be considered normal, save for the addition of the library.
But Erik still didn’t trust it.
Smoothly, and with little production, he shut Charles’s book and set it with his own, standing up from his seat.
“I’ll join you,” he said. “Charles can wait. I rather need a drink myself.”