Hallucinations from my poisonous German streets is an actual song title

[unwheeled]

When; Late Wednesday afternoon, 30 Jan
Rating; PG13 (maybe for language?)
Characters; Erik Lehnsherr and Charles Xavier
Summary; Raeg!Tea wears off. Discussion of consequences and Charles' immense control issues
Log; By the time Erik returns from his investigation of the grocery store and wherever else he decided to attempt to find answers, Charles has calmed down. With the marshaling of his emotional state comes two reactions:

Guilt and shame.

Charles has stopped replying to the few people who were actually concerned enough to make various offers to assist him, though at this point there doesn't seem to be any renewed interest in his terrible snarling. Six separate people tried to help him and six separate people got his verbal abuse in return.

Dr. Banner. Stiles. Ginny. Miles. Mae. A young woman named Clary he'd never even spoken to before. Not to mention the entire grocery store he'd nearly set to riot over absolutely nothing.

The idea of a public apology to follow up his very public outburst is as soon dismissed as Charles thinks of it; he attacked these people personally merely for having the audacity to show interest and concern. He'll make his apologies personal as well. Later.

For now he's replaying the entire series of conversations through the device's voice-activated menus, wincing slightly every time his own voice cuts through the silence of the otherwise empty apartment. Half the reason he'd become interested in psychology when he was younger was to better understand his own mind, to establish control over himself; an outburst like this has to be studied and broken down into pieces that he can dissect in order to prevent it from ever happening again.

Doesn't mean it's easy to listen to.

Charles doesn't even hear Erik unseal the door, and he certainly can't see it from his position on the floor staring up at the ceiling. Not that he'd be the first to speak if he did, because Erik deserves the first apology but Charles has no idea how to even begin.

Comments

[violenthearted]

Upon his return even unseen Erik looks perhaps understandably wary, although it does help that he has a lead to follow up on. He'll do that in a little while, once he's done things like assess the situation here, the first order of which is uh, getting the chair off of the floor!

He does this with his mutation rather than hefting it with his arms (its return to upright position is smoother that way), and considers Charles with his arms folded over his chest. "You look better," he observes, which means ...you know, Charles looks less like he is about to start popping capillaries.

If it's occurred to Erik that if Charles were really angry he could leave Erik thinking he were, perhaps, a cocker spaniel for the rest of his life (it has), he seems to be ignoring the possibility out of bravery OR LOVE or deeply abiding stupidity. He's not sure which of those it is.

[unwheeled]

Charles winces slightly at the impact, however gentle, of the chair righting itself. His arm is likely to be near useless for a few days. "Do I? I feel worse but I suppose that means I've come to my senses." For a long moment he says nothing else, until: "We need a plan for things like this. Fast-acting sedatives might be...better."

In the sense that it would stop him, anyway. Charles sets his mouth in a fine line; to go with that guilt and shame he now has self-directed anger and disappointment that this 'episode', whatever in the world it was, lasted for hours and put so many at risk.

"Was anyone hurt?"

[violenthearted]

There is a moment where it feels like Erik is weighing something between the two sides of a scale, and then the limbs of the chair reform themselves properly, leaving Charles free from his bondage. "I don't want to have to do this again. But you probably couldn't stop me before I got a needle in you."

'Probably.' If they're planning for this kind of thing now.

'This', not specifically the chair, but any of it. He's known, of course, that Charles is vulnerable; he plans for every contingency like he draws breath, but what-ifs and reality often do not collide with any kind of similar force. But it's not like he can just refuse, either, because it has happened. He just wants his objection voiced. That said, he crouches to one side of the chair to examine Charles's arm: he's right about how he's not really a medical person mostly in that his bedside manner lacks most basic gentleness, but at least he's efficient. "Nothing looks broken, and no, no one was hurt, unless you count a lot of ruffled feathers."

All of that, and now what does he do? Charles is in want of something, clearly, and Erik is at a loss to judge if it's time or distance or--he doesn't know, he goes for the tangible. As always. "Do you want something to eat?"

Since all that yelling can really take it out of a person and everything. Plus it's just a normal thing they can do between them, have a meal and put this aside until Erik hunts it down and dismembers it.

[unwheeled]

With 'freedom' comes a rather heavy sigh from Charles though he stays seated, moving only to wiggle his toes and rub his fingers. He was fairly certain he hadn't broken his arm, but the confirmation from Erik (poor bedside manner or not) is still welcome. "I suppose ruffled feathers are survivable," he responds flatly, but it's the lack of inflection from emotional exhaustion not from annoyance.

He wants to tackle this as he would tackle any problem; methodically but morally, head-on and immediately executing whatever implementation possible. The only issue with that is that as far as he understands it he is the problem, which immediately calls into question his ability to solve it. "The theory I held onto was that even if I were consumed by anger I could remove myself from that state well enough to retain my ability to make logical arguments for or against my behavior. A feeling of unease should not have lead to all this." So where does the fault lie? Where is the flaw that was so easily exploited? How does Charles erase it to ensure it's never used against anyone else?

"I suppose now I know which of my personal standards I can actually manage to uphold. I didn't kill anyone. I didn't cause any...permanent damage. My lashing out remained verbal only." Which is interesting, in a way Charles doesn't ever want his behavior to be interesting - it suggests a hypocritical double-standard that he can't quite pinpoint, which tells him that he should leave it now until he feels more certain and stable in his own arguments.

Lest he begin to pick apart at everything he's ever claimed to stand for. Even now he wonders if he's overreacting to the day's events but he reassures himself that no, this is serious. The other residents of the City may be used to curses altering their behavior and causing them to become dangerous to others, but Charles is not willing to accept that it should be taken quite so lightly.

None of which is answering Erik's question of food, however. "I could eat." Putting his left arm on the corner of the table (it really is a slim miracle he didn't manage to bash his head in on that edge going down) Charles presses his forehead to the palm of his hands and lets out a slow, shaky breath.