log; magneto & mystique WHO: Magneto & Mystique WHEN: Tuesday, June 30th, after the big hullabaloo that accompanied Erik's arrival WHERE: Erik & Raven's room WHAT: They kind of make up? This was a nicer log than we thought it was going to be. WARNING(S): Raven came in with a gunshot wound in her leg, and for most of the log they're looking at it or changing her bandages, so if you have a really bad medical squick, I'd say don't? Just to be safest.
_____________________
Erik could only imagine the conversations people had had before he woke up. His reputation preceded him so much so that he awoke to several people attempting to manage the situation, as if he'd awaken in a strange place, in a hospital bed in a place full of humans, and he'd kill anyone on his way out.
Possibly.
As it was, Erik didn't kill anyone today, and was escorted by a very tall woman with horns, and Mystique, to a room that was now his. He was given a device that connected to some kind of "network" that allowed him to speak to other people and had the situation explained — which would have been a lot more difficult to believe if he hadn't just had a visitor from the future encouraging him to alter events and save mutantkind.
He idly wondered if it worked.
The door closed on the room he was meant to share with Mystique — and left alone with her, he started to chuckle.
"An infinite number of universes, an infinite number of possibilities, and I happen to end up in a room with you." He leaned back against the closed door, tucking his hands into the pockets of his trousers. "My apologies."
"Shut up, Erik."
Mystique still had a limp. She couldn't have been very far ahead of him, as far as timelines went. There wasn't much personalization here, but one of the beds in the room was already a little rumpled, and by the way she walked toward it, that one was hers. There was a partition between the beds, enough for some measure of privacy while they slept.
She'd spent the day or so before his arrival trying to learn about Mount Weather, adopting appearances she saw in the halls and using them to move through the crowds unnoticed, watching people who didn't know they were being watched. The effort of walking normally so no one suspected left her sore, her muscles seized up with the effort, and she sighed when she was finally able to sit.
"I told them to. You need to be watched."
Erik raised his eyebrows, the corner of his lip twitching. It was equal parts sad and amusing; he hated that there was a rift between them, after everything they'd been through, but he had to wonder what she thought he'd do. Attack everyone on sight? Crush the compound itself like he was crumpling a piece of paper — and for no particular reason?
"Watched by … who, you?" He smiled.
"I know you. They don't." She leaned down to gently pry at her bandages. They were almost soaked through and needed to be changed, but they'd been setting things up to deal with Erik instead. It would have been smarter to go back to the hospital, but it was too much trouble to walk. Continuing to walk around on it like she was was just exacerbating it.
"They do now, after what you must have said about me." Erik watched her fuss with the bandages, and he sighed. Their differences aside, their arguments aside, Erik still cared for her. He was always going to care for her, and her injury was his fault.
He moved to her, tossing his fedora down onto the bed, and then his jacket. "Here, let me," he said, crouching down in front of her.
"I don't need your help. I'll ask Mordin when I feel like walking again." Raven waved him off, scooting to the side. "This is your fault, anyway, I think you've done enough." 'Bitter' was an understatement.
Erik deserved her anger, and he knew it. He was perfectly willing to turn a gun on her in order to save the rest of their kind, and probably would have killed her if no one had interfered. Looking back, there had been other solutions, but Erik had wanted to do things neatly and not leave any loose ends. If Raven was the one who started the war on mutantkind, then Raven needed to be eliminated even if it killed a piece of him to do it.
He watched her patiently, holding out his hands. His touch hovered just over her leg, but he didn't make contact without her permission. "No, I know. This is my fault; the least I can do is clean it up."
"It just needs to be redone. It's not like I'm losing my leg. We're not friends anymore, thanks to you." When she shifted her weight and put a little too much into her foot to do it, something under her bandage shifted, dotting a clean area with new blood as a stitch pulled. Mordin had patched her back up, but she should have been on crutches to keep from tugging at the string.
Erik frowned, lightly touching the bandage. "I know you stole supplies. Where are they?"
It took a few moments for Raven to answer, staring at him while she considered it. She could do her own stitches, but he'd shot her in the back of the leg; it was an awkward place to get at herself, and if she went back to Mordin with awkwardly-done stitches, he would know she'd stolen something.
"Under the bed," she finally admitted. "In a pocket made by the loose lining under the frame."
"Thank you." Erik ducked to one side to peek under the bed. He ignored a little twinge of pain in his neck from his own wound, one shot from Raven in exchange for the one he'd given her. It didn't make them even, he was sure.
He pulled out the stash of supplies that she'd hidden away, looking them over. He'd done his fair share of patching up his own wounds, as well as the injuries of Brotherhood members in his care. "Do they suspect you've taken this?" he asked, glancing up. There was a faint, amused twinkle in his eye — he never expected her to trust any of them.
"Not yet. If they suspect anyone, it'll be Dr. Tam." Mordin had been helpful, and one of the other ones -- Hawke -- could do magic, or so she'd heard. Tam was human enough that she didn't feel bad potentially getting him into trouble. Feeling for the break in the bandages, Raven popped the clasp and started removing them. "Mystique." Erik stilled her hands. He let his thumbs brush over her knuckles. There was a fondness in his touch, and he was reluctant to let go. "Let me do this."
She pulled away from him, leaning back on her hands. Ten years ago she would have been more uneasy being so naked when they weren't getting along. More than a few things had changed. "This doesn't mean we're all right."
"Of course not," Erik said warmly.
He patted the mattress. "Lie down for me, unless you want me to throw your leg over my shoulder so I can look at it." He seemed grateful for the company, despite the fact that Raven wasn't pleased with him. He'd spent ten years alone and it had worn him down more than he cared to admit. For years he'd drifted from place to place by himself, he was familiar with feeling isolated, but being in that cell with nothing but his thoughts had been more difficult than most could imagine.
Raven didn't move, watching him with an eerie yellow stare. "All right." It would be easier to knee him in the head or grab him if she was sitting up.
Erik waited for her to change positions, but when she didn't, he sighed and grabbed her ankle. He tugged her foot up onto his shoulder and started to rifle through the supplies. "You keep tugging it open. Stop walking on it."
"I had to look around. I'll live." To her credit, she was handling the pain better than she used to. She wouldn't admit it, but he was right. Walking around without help was stupid now that she knew what was where.
"Get a cane," Erik said shortly. He found a little packet with an antibacterial wipe, and he turned it over in his fingers before opening it up. He didn't warn her that it was likely to sting before he dragged it across the wound.
"I'll ask for crutches." She hissed quietly, looking just to the left of Erik's face and watching the wall. "You tried to kill me, Erik."
"Yes. I did."
Erik tipped his head to try and get a look at her wound. When he couldn't get a good look because of the angle, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a coin. It hovered effortlessly in the air, stretching to the size of his palm and smoothing to a glasslike surface.
He adjusted the position of the coin beneath Raven's leg and held it like a mirror.
There were a few stitches, one that was ripped from the strain. The bruising around the wound had turned her skin purple and maroon.
"You know, if you hadn't, I would have been on your side."
Erik glanced back up at her. "So you're putting our cause aside for a personal grudge."
"You're not the cause, Magneto, you're one person. And this time, you were wrong. The war hasn't started yet. If there's going to be one, let them take the first public shot, not us. If I'd gone with you, I wouldn't have realized the situation we'd put ourselves in." Looking back down at him, she added, "Do you really think I wouldn't have killed myself if I thought my death would keep us all safe?"
Erik went back to looking into the coin to examine her wound. It was a lot uglier than it should have been, with the way he'd used the bullet to drag her around. "I don't know. Possibly."
She was right, and he knew it, and he should have spoken to her first. He'd acted rashly. He'd come off ten years in solitary confinement and was expected to make sound, rational decisions.
"You're not yourself again yet," she added, softer now. "You've been alone for a long time. You're impulsive and you have your own agenda and you can be terrifying. You know that. You need someone watching you for your own sake, too. Don't pretend you don't."
Erik bowed his head, resting his brow against Raven's uninjured leg. He wanted to tell her she was wrong, that he didn't need to be watched or told what to do — but he knew that he'd made mistakes. He knew that he'd taken drastic action and turned on people he cared about.
He'd do it again in a heartbeat if the plan was worth it.
"You don't know me," he said quietly. "You barely know me."
"You're just saying that so you don't have to admit that I'm right." And, unfortunately, Mystique was gentler than she let on, especially if he was going to act sympathetic. "I can say that getting shot wasn't the reunion I would have picked. Maybe I just want to say I know you because you were the first person who knew me."
Erik let his eyes close. He was glad he hadn't succeeded in killing her, glad that she was here. He'd missed her more than she understood.
She didn't know him, not really. No one did, except perhaps for Charles, but that was only because he saw into Erik's mind and picked at the pieces at him that were long since buried. No one got to know him easily, because Erik insisted there was nothing to know. He was a tool for revenge, and now he was leader in a war that needed an invincible protector more than it needed a person.
But she knew him better than most, at least.
She knew his scars, she knew about the numbers on his arm and what they meant. He never talked about it. Her knowing him had more to do with watching him than actually having him say anything.
"Are you saying Charles didn't know you?" he asked. He lifted his head to look up at her, resting his chin on her knee.
"He sees what he wants to see. You can be an asshole, but you listened when I told you who I was." She gave him a bit of a nudge, resisted the urge to smooth back his hair. "You still need to help me fix my leg. You broke it, you buy it."
Erik's expression softened and he sat up again. He ran his hand over her shin and adjusted her foot on his shoulder, his touch lingering for a moment on her ankle before he went back to the supplies.