( There's nothing especially unique about the place she directs him to. It's small, run by a single old lady who seems to take great pleasure in yelling at her staff in some indecipherable other language before flipping like a switch and doting on her customers like a concerned grandmother. Flip-flopping back and forth between the two attitudes amuses Laura to no end, and with the place being so small, it never feels overwhelming in population. Just a quiet little hidden gem on the corner of the block.
Erik beats her there by a couple of minutes; she doesn't have to look around to find him. Tracking the familiar smell is easy, and she slides into the seat opposite him with a small, restrained little smile. )
Hi.
( Probably a little underwhelming in terms of greetings, but the truth is, reaching out had been sort of a spontaneous decision. There's no real reason behind it, or at least none that feel good enough to justify herself if he asks why.
She just. Wanted to.
Navigating through things during the meteor storm chaos had felt good. It felt a lot simpler than things do when she's around Logan, while still providing a similar sense of being in the company of somebody she feels like maybe she can look up to. Maybe at eighteen she should be a little too old to still seek that feeling out, but it's extremely easy to shove that thought down and pretend like this is just a matter of two people on the fringes of the same community bonding. Pretending like she's not looking for anything. Like it's not complicated. She's electing not to think about it. )
[ The place is small, but that actually works really well for Erik. Not a lot of spots feel especially cozy here, and he appreciates having fewer people around too. Calmer, and quieter. He asks for a beer while he waits, and he's about a third through his glass when Laura shows up.
He returns her smile easily, sitting a little more upright. ]
Hello, Laura.
[ She doesn't look too different than when they last spoke. Not a surprise, he knows she can look after herself, and he has seen her out and about, both at the motel and the scrapyard. This place still has a way of taking its toll mentally, regardless of what she may already have been through before her time here. So that's why he asks next. ]
( It's delivered lightly — mostly honest. She's mostly managing to keep a roof over her head and food in her stomach with the money she makes running into diffusion zones for storm chasers. The city continues to be a thousand times better than the Void. She's building connections with people here, she isn't quite so alone. It's good. Not perfect, but good enough.
The ways that it could be better don't really matter. )
How are you? How's things with Charles?
( Two separate questions, but she imagine one ties into the other. )
[ From what he knows of her life before, however little of it, it doesn't surprise him in the least that she's doing alright here. This place is an improvement for many of them, and Erik can very easily imagine a world (or very specific circumstances) that would make someone prefer being here.
For him there's a sort of equilibrium— some things are better, others not so much. But he certainly can't complain either. ]
Things are alright. [ Perfect, even, but he's not going to gush about it. Please. ] I've mostly been busy with work. Went to Kolliery recently. [ There's a pause then, long enough for Laura to be able to tell that Erik's debating on whether or not to share more. ] Something else has happened. I haven't found an explanation for it just yet.
( Alright sounds good; busy with work doesn't sound so bad either. She's visited Kolliery herself, actually — she'd volunteer as much, except she's immediately distracted by his clear hesitation. It puts a little furrow in her brow, has her wrapping her fingers around the paper-wrapped straw that came with her place setting. )
What was it?
( This place is full of irregular, weird stuff. If it's something even bigger than the norm, it's bound to be interesting — if not outright concerning. )
[ Being here does come with its perks. For someone like Laura even more so, he's sure, but before he came here, Erik was about to go into hiding, assume a new identity and distance himself as possible from his real self, and the mutant cause by extension. The mere fact that he can just be himself, exist with his abilities, and be close to others of his own kind is already an improvement.
Speaking of his powers, though... he holds his hand out, fingers stretched out and palm to the side. He summons a salt shaker from a table nearby, letting it hover between them both. All the while that he's using his powers, his arm begins turning to metal. He's not making much effort so the transformation is slow, but the longer he uses his mutation, the more the metal spreads. Even as it covers his hand and fingers, though, he can still move them, curling them so that he can show her what he means.
So yes, he'd classify that as both interesting and concerning. ]
I don't know what's caused this, but I suspect a side effect from a cosmic storm. Something that's altered my mutation.
( Okay, yes, that — that definitely classifies as both. She watches, transfixed, as the metal creeps along his fingertips. After a few stunned seconds, even carefully reaches across the table to touch the back of his hand, just to know for sure.
That's definitely metal. She's intimately familiar with the feeling of it.
When she pulls her hand away, a little knit settles into her brow. )
I didn't realize this place could do that. Change what we do, I mean.
( The thought of it feels suddenly... invasive in a way that makes her darkly uncomfortable; the concept of yet another outside force influencing her body without her control, without her permission. When her hands curl into fists on the top of the table, it's because of the unshakable thought of something new inside of her, something altering her claws, something she can't stop.
Is it that intrusive to him? If anyone here can relate to her discomfort... )
[ He keeps his mutation active, as to allow her the time to fully examine the effect it has on him. The touch hardly bothers him, and he makes no move to discourage it or pull away.
As soon as he sets the shaker down on the table and stops using his powers, the metal begins to fade, until his hand is back to normal. Visibly, anyway. Erik still feels the same discomfort and numbness as he has every time this has happened. ]
I assume it's affecting my mutation, at least. Since this only happens when I use my abilities.
[ He pulls his arm closer to himself, rubbing over his arm to will away the prickling sensation still lingering. His attention is more on Laura than anything else. She's not all that good at masking the shifts in her expression, and to Erik it's all too easy to pick up on it. ]
( Erik's perceptive; a lot of people would find the subtle, muted changes to her expression hard to read. She isn't, if you know what you're looking for. It's just rare that anyone here does yet. She hasn't known anyone here long enough, hasn't shared enough of her history to anyone — except for maybe Charles. )
I'm fine.
( It comes out... not terse exactly, but unconvincingly brusque. She considers leaving it there, but a twitch of the lips and a second thought have her relenting in favor of something more honest. )
I don't like the idea of something changing us against our will. I don't like the thought of waking up to something about me being wrong.
( She wasn't born with metal on her claws. A long twilight nightmare of a surgery led to a rude awakening when she was little. She doesn't want that again. If it can happen to him, it can happen to anyone. It can happen to her. Maybe that's a selfish first instinct, it just feels like a horrifying breach of autonomy. )
[ He is rather good at reading people. He's no telepath, granted, but even the slightest shifts in demeanor and facial expressions can be revealing, and he's always had a good sense to interpret those.
He also doesn't believe for a moment that she's fine. Still, his plan isn't to push, if she doesn't want to talk about it. He's ready to let go, when she decides to offer a little more about what bothers her.
Here's the thing: he may not know everything about her past. But he met Logan when he had only bone claws, and now here he has a skeleton covered in metal. That didn't happen by accident, and Erik is willing to bet that it wasn't by Logan's own choice either.
The dots are there for him to connect. ]
I understand that. [ He laces his hands together on top of the table, thoughtful. ] I wish I could tell you that won't happen, but evidently it might. We have no way of knowing. What I can tell you with certainty is that, no matter what might be done to you, nothing about you would be wrong.
[ He knows what she means, that she wouldn't feel like herself, as if a part of her was stolen by having her autonomy taken from her again. Truly, he understands that so much better than she might realize. But they exist, no matter what is done to them. They are, and Erik refuses to say there would be something wrong about them. ]
( He sounds so certain, he has so much conviction about it, Laura finds herself hard-pressed to argue. Her lips press together softly, her eyes dip down away from him and then trail off to the side as she considers it all.
She understands what he means. It just doesn't make her feel much better about the concept.
As nice as the thought of self-acceptance is, as nice as it is to know that he'd accept her, she's still not thrilled about the idea of something else dictating changes to her body.
Ultimately, she keeps these reservations to herself. Internalizes them, the way she internalizes everything — just habit. Just a product of never having the kind of dynamic with anyone where talking about what she feels has ever been relevant. )
Have you tested the limits of it? ( She asks instead, carefully redirecting the spotlight off of herself. ) Like, how far it spreads?
[ He's not dismissing her feelings on it at all. He deeply dislikes this happening to him too, in great part because it's a change that happened against his own will. Granted, it wasn't scientists and doctors poking at him, so it's slightly less traumatizing there, but that only helps so much in the grand scheme of things. But it doesn't make them wrong inherently.
So hopefully nothing like this will happen to her. Not that she couldn't survive it, but he'd just rather she was spared having to handle it. For him, the worst was the initial shock, especially with the memories with the mannequin haunting him. Now, he's coping a little better. Still a lot of questions, but he's working through it without panicking or letting his emotions get the better of him. (That's definitely an improvement when it comes to Erik.) ]
Not yet. [ He shakes his head. ] I was mostly trying to keep it under control. But I've realized the more I rely on my mutation, the further it spreads.
[ Maybe he should push his limits. Fuck the consequences, take a risk, something like that. ]
( She has concerns. Maybe she shouldn't; she likes him, she thinks he likes her as well or he wouldn't be getting lunch with her, but that doesn't necessarily make them close or anything. Maybe not even close enough to warrant the level of worry suddenly trilling away in her chest about this. Definitely not enough to put a voice to it. She's just...
Worried that pushing it too far could have unexpected consequences. What if it takes him over completely? What if it begins to linger, to stay, what if the change becomes permanent?
But then, it's like he said, he'd still be himself. He wouldn't be wrong. Just different.
It's not her place to say anything, and she's spared the need by a rather thick, no-nonsense woman coming over to take their order. A soda and an ungodly amount of noodles, too many noodles for any other teenage girl her size — but part of why she loves them is that they're cheap for the amount of calories they give. It's hard, keeping herself fed, keeping a roof over her own head. Scavenging for scrap to sell, walking dogs, doing everything she can to scrape by for money.
She's managing.
When the woman who takes their order wanders off again, Laura's fingers go back to playing with her straw. She can't say exactly why she feels compelled to tell him this, but it slips out anyway: )
I told Logan. About how we're related.
( Erik's one of the people that knew, that had promised to keep it to himself. At least now he knows he doesn't have to do that anymore. )
[ He can tell she's worried, even if she might not voice it. It's nice. Erik isn't particularly used to people caring enough to worry about him. And it's not as if Erik doesn't have his own concerns about this new change, mind, he's just not the type of man to let his fears stop him. (Or stop him from doing something stupid sometimes.)
His attention shifts as they're approached by the waitress, ordering a simple chicken noodle dish for himself. Leaning with his elbows on the table as she leaves again, his gaze on her thoughtful as Laura bring up Logan. His eyes linger on her forearms despite himself, and he nods. ]
That's good. [ Overall, he means. ] There's been too many secrets in our circle as it is.
[ Not that Erik's too closely involved for now, much as Charles would like to change that. ]
How did it go?
[ He knows just enough about Logan to imagine the man taking the whole thing rather poorly, and reacting accordingly. He still hopes that wasn't the case, solely for Laura's sake. ]
( She can't help but agree with the too many secrets thing. Keeping her own from Scott about Cable hasn't made her feel especially great, particularly when Scott's one of the people that kept her secret for her. The sooner it all comes out, the less guilty she'll feel.
The question earns a brief purse of her lips. The answer comes out dry, a little deadpan: )
Well, he chopped down a tree and took off, so.
( Not great.
Which is a blithe way to put something which had, in the moment, been especially painful to experience. Some time has passed, though, and things have calmed down since then — so she sways a little and concedes: )
He's not avoiding me anymore, so I guess he's kind of... ( Warmed up to the idea feels like the wrong way to put it, that implies any kind of real acceptance or positivity on Logan's part about the whole thing, and she's not entirely sure that's the case. ) ...less pissed off now? I don't think he hates me, anyway, so that's an improvement over back home.
[ Well. That's about the kind of response he would expect, even with how little he knows Logan. Chopping down a tree does seem a little more excessive, but taking off so he didn't have to deal with it in the moment, that tracks.
Erik can't fault him for the shock, honestly. Especially if he knew (or could guess) the details. It's not the kind of thing anyone would like to learn, and a man who's likely already seen his agency taken from him before, even less so. ]
I can't imagine why he would hate you.
[ Hate whoever did that to him, and to her? Sure, that he understands. Being bothered by the notion of her being his offspring, sure. But having any anger or hatred towards her just seems entirely unreasonable to Erik. None of it is her fault, she's as much a victim of it as Logan himself. ]
( In Logan's defense, it was a very small tree. Just for the record.
Her lips press together into a tight line; her eyes dip down to that straw still wrapped in paper, thumbing at the edge of the seam, worrying it soft. )
It's complicated. ( Or maybe it isn't. ) I showed up and made his life harder than it already was. I think I represented a lot of bad things about his history, to start with, and I wasn't... the easiest kid to get along with.
( Which is a mild way of saying she'd been half feral, stubborn, just as inclined to snarl back at him as often as he snarled at her. She didn't know how to be a child. )
But... I think what really cemented it is being the reason Charles died.
( Maybe that's a big thing to drop on Erik. It's a different universe, a different Charles, but still significant enough that maybe Logan's disdain is a little easier to understand. It's an oversimplification of events, but she thinks it's true, she blames herself for it. )
[ Oh alright then, that makes it so much less dramatic, of course. (Not that Erik can talk when it comes to being overly dramatic.)
Erik can understand the news of her existence being a shock, even if she was a child from a casual fling. Some people can react rather poorly even without all the complicated background. It's all the more understandable in this particular situation— but hate is such a strong word, and Erik just can't imagine why Logan would hate her, specifically. The situation, certainly— even more so the people responsible for the entire thing. But a child is hardly at fault for that.
He freezes at her next words though, stunned surprised leaving him speechless and motionless for a few good seconds. His lips part, eyebrows knit together, his mind trying to come up with a number of scenarios to explain what she's just told him. ]
How so?
[ Well, he's not mad (yet, at least), but there's a certain tension to those two single words, leaving her no room to hold back on details now. She can't just say something like that and expect him to let it go, naturally. ]
( She expected it. The tension. It's fair, and valid, and deserved — and if he gets angry at her, she'll understand that, too. Charles had been infinitely forgiving about the whole thing, but Charles is Charles. It's different. )
The people who killed him were the ones that made me. They were trying to reclaim their property. He was only there because him and Logan were trying to help me escape to Canada. If they'd have left me like Logan wanted to at first, it never would have happened.
( But Charles insisted, because of course he did. He refused to leave her behind, and it earned him a set of claws through the chest by a monster engineered to hate. Yes, he'd been nearly a hundred years old at the time already, but without her, maybe he'd have died peacefully in his sleep a few more years out. )
[ Well, she did just drop on him the fact that Charles was killed in her time. It's not like Erik expects any of them to live forever, to be fair, even the man he loves, but there's a world of difference between dying naturally or getting killed. (Then again, when would mutants ever have the luxury of dying of old age? That would be a true feat.)
It's the fact that she takes responsibility over that death that gets him. She must have been only a child then, he imagines. He can't see any way that she would have been to blame for it. He's hoping that whatever she says puts any concern of her guilt to rest— and when she elaborates, his eyes widen just so, and that tension bleeds from him in an instant, along with a sigh he breathes out. ]
Christ, Laura. [ He rubs his hand over his eyes. Just give him a moment, here. ] That's not your fault. None of what was done to you, or to the people around you, was your fault. And besides, you were not their property to begin with. People aren't things to be owned.
( The expression she answers him with is not a smile. It's a press of lips on lips, that tuck themselves gently into her cheeks, but there's nothing happy in it really. It's an acknowledgement — she hears you, she understands, she appreciates the sentiment... but she isn't actually convinced, her opinion hasn't changed. To her, the bottom line is the only reason Charles is dead is because of his proximity to her. If she'd never showed up at their little hide-away, it never would have happened. She'd bet money the Logan she knew would agree.
This one might not. This one here, now, in this city, is different. But the opinion of a dead man still holds more weight to her than she'd like to admit. He was supposed to be her father, after all, and the amount of baggage she's got associated with that concept could spend a decade getting unpacked in therapy. It won't, but it could. )
Either way, Logan seemed to believe it. I didn't have long enough to make a better impression on him before he died. I'm not actually sure I'm doing a much better job with this one, if I'm being completely honest.
[ To blame a literal child for the actions of the organization at fault for what was done to her is, quite simply put, irrational. She didn't put her claws through Charles herself, she didn't trick him into a trap. She was a child, running from a situation of abuse and torture. Erik would expect no less from Charles than to wish to protect her, and he would equally expect that from anyone who would claim to be one of his people.
If that led to the horrible outcome of Charles's death, of course there is certainly blame to assign, but not to her.
He can see that he's not going to convince her this easily, and he doesn't expect to either. He understands that guilt all too well. His gaze drops, lands on his linked hands on the table, a long breath before he looks her in the eye again. ]
You won't know this— I don't think anyone here does. But I'm the reason that Charles can't walk.
[ It's a topic that neither he nor Charles have even touched on, never spoke of again. Charles has mourned the loss of his legs but not once has he attacked Erik with accusations, and Erik himself has never had the courage to really bring it up. But the guilt is there, and the awareness that he's never going to find forgiveness for it, mostly because he knows he's never going to forgive himself. ]
I was deflecting a bullet, and it ended up hitting him in the back. It wasn't purposeful, but it was my actions directly that caused it. I know what it is truly to hurt someone you care about. Whatever happened to Charles, I'm sure there's no iteration of him that would blame you for it, and he wouldn't regret for a moment to sacrifice himself to protect you. I think maybe Logan was only angry and grieving, and didn't know where to direct those feelings. I don't know him very well, granted, but I can't imagine that he truly blamed or hated you for it.
( I'm the reason Charles can't walk; her eyes go wide, but her mouth stays shut. Listening, of course, is always her first impulse, but her mind immediately goes to the conversation she had with Charles all those months ago. The mention of a time when Erik dropped a stadium on him — maybe it's a natural conclusion to think the two things are related. He quickly corrects that assumption.
The words flow out of him so eloquently, they all make sense, they all sound good. Her eyes duck down to the paper straw she's been playing with, thumbs smoothing the rumpled white paper over again, considering what she's been told.
Eventually — )
I know you're probably right... it's just hard to feel that way sometimes. ( About both things. About her guilt over Charles, and her concerns about Logan. ) If I'm completely honest, I think I've been trying so hard to make sure he knows I don't need him, to make sure he doesn't feel... obligated, I'm leaving him with the impression that I don't want him around at all. I'm not really sure how to... get that right.
( She's also not sure why she's bringing it up now, other than that Erik has proven to be a consistent source of good advice since they met. She respects his opinions on things. He's smart. He's been kind to her. He feels reassuring to talk to. )
[ It's a reasonable leap to make, given that Charles has been fairly open about the incident with the stadium. The beach in Cuba, however, Erik doubts he's told anyone. He has a feeling he'd have been on the receiving end of far more anger from the group at large if that were the case.
He trusts Laura with this. More than he would trust any of the other mutants here. He knows that this knowledge would upset a great number of them, if not all. Not that it wouldn't bother her too, but not in the same way. She doesn't have the same bad memories of Magneto that the others do. ]
I understand that.
[ Words can be eloquent, sentiment can be meaningful, and Erik can tell her everything he believes and still remember how it took him years to no longer blame himself for his own mother's death. Sometimes he still does. If only he'd been stronger, if only he'd done better. It's easy to fall down that slippery path. ]
Sometimes where actions fail you, words are the best way to approach an issue. [ Logan isn't some enemy she needs to find a way to deal with. She wants to be closer to him— that much is evident to Erik. He also knows that's not going to happen without words. Genuine, heartfelt words. ] You should speak to him, Laura. Tell him the same you're telling me now. That you would like for him to have... some sort of meaningful presence in your life.
( The look on her face, subdued as it is, distinctly veers toward wry for a moment. )
Well when you put it like that, it almost makes sense.
( Almost makes her whole convoluted approach seem silly when it's cast against such a reasonable perspective. Still, the thought of just... sitting down and outright saying all of this to Logan is such a viscerally uncomfortable, daunting concept that her little smile doesn't linger for very long.
It's the what if of it all. It's the once bitten, twice shy of it all. It's a few formative memories at a very impressionable age, and if she were to take a few seconds to imagine saying any of this to the Logan she knew as a girl, she can only imagine herself getting raked over the coals and taken apart.
But this man isn't the Logan she knew. He deserves a chance to be his own version. He's earned that much.
She sighs, and sounds a little self-deprecating when she asks, mostly jokingly: )
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Erik beats her there by a couple of minutes; she doesn't have to look around to find him. Tracking the familiar smell is easy, and she slides into the seat opposite him with a small, restrained little smile. )
Hi.
( Probably a little underwhelming in terms of greetings, but the truth is, reaching out had been sort of a spontaneous decision. There's no real reason behind it, or at least none that feel good enough to justify herself if he asks why.
She just.
Wanted to.
Navigating through things during the meteor storm chaos had felt good. It felt a lot simpler than things do when she's around Logan, while still providing a similar sense of being in the company of somebody she feels like maybe she can look up to. Maybe at eighteen she should be a little too old to still seek that feeling out, but it's extremely easy to shove that thought down and pretend like this is just a matter of two people on the fringes of the same community bonding. Pretending like she's not looking for anything. Like it's not complicated. She's electing not to think about it. )
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He returns her smile easily, sitting a little more upright. ]
Hello, Laura.
[ She doesn't look too different than when they last spoke. Not a surprise, he knows she can look after herself, and he has seen her out and about, both at the motel and the scrapyard. This place still has a way of taking its toll mentally, regardless of what she may already have been through before her time here. So that's why he asks next. ]
How are you doing?
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( It's delivered lightly — mostly honest. She's mostly managing to keep a roof over her head and food in her stomach with the money she makes running into diffusion zones for storm chasers. The city continues to be a thousand times better than the Void. She's building connections with people here, she isn't quite so alone. It's good. Not perfect, but good enough.
The ways that it could be better don't really matter. )
How are you? How's things with Charles?
( Two separate questions, but she imagine one ties into the other. )
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For him there's a sort of equilibrium— some things are better, others not so much. But he certainly can't complain either. ]
Things are alright. [ Perfect, even, but he's not going to gush about it. Please. ] I've mostly been busy with work. Went to Kolliery recently. [ There's a pause then, long enough for Laura to be able to tell that Erik's debating on whether or not to share more. ] Something else has happened. I haven't found an explanation for it just yet.
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What was it?
( This place is full of irregular, weird stuff. If it's something even bigger than the norm, it's bound to be interesting — if not outright concerning. )
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Speaking of his powers, though... he holds his hand out, fingers stretched out and palm to the side. He summons a salt shaker from a table nearby, letting it hover between them both. All the while that he's using his powers, his arm begins turning to metal. He's not making much effort so the transformation is slow, but the longer he uses his mutation, the more the metal spreads. Even as it covers his hand and fingers, though, he can still move them, curling them so that he can show her what he means.
So yes, he'd classify that as both interesting and concerning. ]
I don't know what's caused this, but I suspect a side effect from a cosmic storm. Something that's altered my mutation.
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That's definitely metal. She's intimately familiar with the feeling of it.
When she pulls her hand away, a little knit settles into her brow. )
I didn't realize this place could do that. Change what we do, I mean.
( The thought of it feels suddenly... invasive in a way that makes her darkly uncomfortable; the concept of yet another outside force influencing her body without her control, without her permission. When her hands curl into fists on the top of the table, it's because of the unshakable thought of something new inside of her, something altering her claws, something she can't stop.
Is it that intrusive to him? If anyone here can relate to her discomfort... )
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[ He keeps his mutation active, as to allow her the time to fully examine the effect it has on him. The touch hardly bothers him, and he makes no move to discourage it or pull away.
As soon as he sets the shaker down on the table and stops using his powers, the metal begins to fade, until his hand is back to normal. Visibly, anyway. Erik still feels the same discomfort and numbness as he has every time this has happened. ]
I assume it's affecting my mutation, at least. Since this only happens when I use my abilities.
[ He pulls his arm closer to himself, rubbing over his arm to will away the prickling sensation still lingering. His attention is more on Laura than anything else. She's not all that good at masking the shifts in her expression, and to Erik it's all too easy to pick up on it. ]
Are you alright?
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I'm fine.
( It comes out... not terse exactly, but unconvincingly brusque. She considers leaving it there, but a twitch of the lips and a second thought have her relenting in favor of something more honest. )
I don't like the idea of something changing us against our will. I don't like the thought of waking up to something about me being wrong.
( She wasn't born with metal on her claws. A long twilight nightmare of a surgery led to a rude awakening when she was little. She doesn't want that again. If it can happen to him, it can happen to anyone. It can happen to her. Maybe that's a selfish first instinct, it just feels like a horrifying breach of autonomy. )
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He also doesn't believe for a moment that she's fine. Still, his plan isn't to push, if she doesn't want to talk about it. He's ready to let go, when she decides to offer a little more about what bothers her.
Here's the thing: he may not know everything about her past. But he met Logan when he had only bone claws, and now here he has a skeleton covered in metal. That didn't happen by accident, and Erik is willing to bet that it wasn't by Logan's own choice either.
The dots are there for him to connect. ]
I understand that. [ He laces his hands together on top of the table, thoughtful. ] I wish I could tell you that won't happen, but evidently it might. We have no way of knowing. What I can tell you with certainty is that, no matter what might be done to you, nothing about you would be wrong.
[ He knows what she means, that she wouldn't feel like herself, as if a part of her was stolen by having her autonomy taken from her again. Truly, he understands that so much better than she might realize. But they exist, no matter what is done to them. They are, and Erik refuses to say there would be something wrong about them. ]
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She understands what he means. It just doesn't make her feel much better about the concept.
As nice as the thought of self-acceptance is, as nice as it is to know that he'd accept her, she's still not thrilled about the idea of something else dictating changes to her body.
Ultimately, she keeps these reservations to herself. Internalizes them, the way she internalizes everything — just habit. Just a product of never having the kind of dynamic with anyone where talking about what she feels has ever been relevant. )
Have you tested the limits of it? ( She asks instead, carefully redirecting the spotlight off of herself. ) Like, how far it spreads?
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So hopefully nothing like this will happen to her. Not that she couldn't survive it, but he'd just rather she was spared having to handle it. For him, the worst was the initial shock, especially with the memories with the mannequin haunting him. Now, he's coping a little better. Still a lot of questions, but he's working through it without panicking or letting his emotions get the better of him. (That's definitely an improvement when it comes to Erik.) ]
Not yet. [ He shakes his head. ] I was mostly trying to keep it under control. But I've realized the more I rely on my mutation, the further it spreads.
[ Maybe he should push his limits. Fuck the consequences, take a risk, something like that. ]
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Worried that pushing it too far could have unexpected consequences. What if it takes him over completely? What if it begins to linger, to stay, what if the change becomes permanent?
But then, it's like he said, he'd still be himself. He wouldn't be wrong. Just different.
It's not her place to say anything, and she's spared the need by a rather thick, no-nonsense woman coming over to take their order. A soda and an ungodly amount of noodles, too many noodles for any other teenage girl her size — but part of why she loves them is that they're cheap for the amount of calories they give. It's hard, keeping herself fed, keeping a roof over her own head. Scavenging for scrap to sell, walking dogs, doing everything she can to scrape by for money.
She's managing.
When the woman who takes their order wanders off again, Laura's fingers go back to playing with her straw. She can't say exactly why she feels compelled to tell him this, but it slips out anyway: )
I told Logan. About how we're related.
( Erik's one of the people that knew, that had promised to keep it to himself. At least now he knows he doesn't have to do that anymore. )
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His attention shifts as they're approached by the waitress, ordering a simple chicken noodle dish for himself. Leaning with his elbows on the table as she leaves again, his gaze on her thoughtful as Laura bring up Logan. His eyes linger on her forearms despite himself, and he nods. ]
That's good. [ Overall, he means. ] There's been too many secrets in our circle as it is.
[ Not that Erik's too closely involved for now, much as Charles would like to change that. ]
How did it go?
[ He knows just enough about Logan to imagine the man taking the whole thing rather poorly, and reacting accordingly. He still hopes that wasn't the case, solely for Laura's sake. ]
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The question earns a brief purse of her lips. The answer comes out dry, a little deadpan: )
Well, he chopped down a tree and took off, so.
( Not great.
Which is a blithe way to put something which had, in the moment, been especially painful to experience. Some time has passed, though, and things have calmed down since then — so she sways a little and concedes: )
He's not avoiding me anymore, so I guess he's kind of... ( Warmed up to the idea feels like the wrong way to put it, that implies any kind of real acceptance or positivity on Logan's part about the whole thing, and she's not entirely sure that's the case. ) ...less pissed off now? I don't think he hates me, anyway, so that's an improvement over back home.
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Erik can't fault him for the shock, honestly. Especially if he knew (or could guess) the details. It's not the kind of thing anyone would like to learn, and a man who's likely already seen his agency taken from him before, even less so. ]
I can't imagine why he would hate you.
[ Hate whoever did that to him, and to her? Sure, that he understands. Being bothered by the notion of her being his offspring, sure. But having any anger or hatred towards her just seems entirely unreasonable to Erik. None of it is her fault, she's as much a victim of it as Logan himself. ]
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Her lips press together into a tight line; her eyes dip down to that straw still wrapped in paper, thumbing at the edge of the seam, worrying it soft. )
It's complicated. ( Or maybe it isn't. ) I showed up and made his life harder than it already was. I think I represented a lot of bad things about his history, to start with, and I wasn't... the easiest kid to get along with.
( Which is a mild way of saying she'd been half feral, stubborn, just as inclined to snarl back at him as often as he snarled at her. She didn't know how to be a child. )
But... I think what really cemented it is being the reason Charles died.
( Maybe that's a big thing to drop on Erik. It's a different universe, a different Charles, but still significant enough that maybe Logan's disdain is a little easier to understand. It's an oversimplification of events, but she thinks it's true, she blames herself for it. )
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Erik can understand the news of her existence being a shock, even if she was a child from a casual fling. Some people can react rather poorly even without all the complicated background. It's all the more understandable in this particular situation— but hate is such a strong word, and Erik just can't imagine why Logan would hate her, specifically. The situation, certainly— even more so the people responsible for the entire thing. But a child is hardly at fault for that.
He freezes at her next words though, stunned surprised leaving him speechless and motionless for a few good seconds. His lips part, eyebrows knit together, his mind trying to come up with a number of scenarios to explain what she's just told him. ]
How so?
[ Well, he's not mad (yet, at least), but there's a certain tension to those two single words, leaving her no room to hold back on details now. She can't just say something like that and expect him to let it go, naturally. ]
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The people who killed him were the ones that made me. They were trying to reclaim their property. He was only there because him and Logan were trying to help me escape to Canada. If they'd have left me like Logan wanted to at first, it never would have happened.
( But Charles insisted, because of course he did. He refused to leave her behind, and it earned him a set of claws through the chest by a monster engineered to hate. Yes, he'd been nearly a hundred years old at the time already, but without her, maybe he'd have died peacefully in his sleep a few more years out. )
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It's the fact that she takes responsibility over that death that gets him. She must have been only a child then, he imagines. He can't see any way that she would have been to blame for it. He's hoping that whatever she says puts any concern of her guilt to rest— and when she elaborates, his eyes widen just so, and that tension bleeds from him in an instant, along with a sigh he breathes out. ]
Christ, Laura. [ He rubs his hand over his eyes. Just give him a moment, here. ] That's not your fault. None of what was done to you, or to the people around you, was your fault. And besides, you were not their property to begin with. People aren't things to be owned.
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This one might not. This one here, now, in this city, is different. But the opinion of a dead man still holds more weight to her than she'd like to admit. He was supposed to be her father, after all, and the amount of baggage she's got associated with that concept could spend a decade getting unpacked in therapy. It won't, but it could. )
Either way, Logan seemed to believe it. I didn't have long enough to make a better impression on him before he died. I'm not actually sure I'm doing a much better job with this one, if I'm being completely honest.
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[ To blame a literal child for the actions of the organization at fault for what was done to her is, quite simply put, irrational. She didn't put her claws through Charles herself, she didn't trick him into a trap. She was a child, running from a situation of abuse and torture. Erik would expect no less from Charles than to wish to protect her, and he would equally expect that from anyone who would claim to be one of his people.
If that led to the horrible outcome of Charles's death, of course there is certainly blame to assign, but not to her.
He can see that he's not going to convince her this easily, and he doesn't expect to either. He understands that guilt all too well. His gaze drops, lands on his linked hands on the table, a long breath before he looks her in the eye again. ]
You won't know this— I don't think anyone here does. But I'm the reason that Charles can't walk.
[ It's a topic that neither he nor Charles have even touched on, never spoke of again. Charles has mourned the loss of his legs but not once has he attacked Erik with accusations, and Erik himself has never had the courage to really bring it up. But the guilt is there, and the awareness that he's never going to find forgiveness for it, mostly because he knows he's never going to forgive himself. ]
I was deflecting a bullet, and it ended up hitting him in the back. It wasn't purposeful, but it was my actions directly that caused it. I know what it is truly to hurt someone you care about. Whatever happened to Charles, I'm sure there's no iteration of him that would blame you for it, and he wouldn't regret for a moment to sacrifice himself to protect you. I think maybe Logan was only angry and grieving, and didn't know where to direct those feelings. I don't know him very well, granted, but I can't imagine that he truly blamed or hated you for it.
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The words flow out of him so eloquently, they all make sense, they all sound good. Her eyes duck down to the paper straw she's been playing with, thumbs smoothing the rumpled white paper over again, considering what she's been told.
Eventually — )
I know you're probably right... it's just hard to feel that way sometimes. ( About both things. About her guilt over Charles, and her concerns about Logan. ) If I'm completely honest, I think I've been trying so hard to make sure he knows I don't need him, to make sure he doesn't feel... obligated, I'm leaving him with the impression that I don't want him around at all. I'm not really sure how to... get that right.
( She's also not sure why she's bringing it up now, other than that Erik has proven to be a consistent source of good advice since they met. She respects his opinions on things. He's smart. He's been kind to her. He feels reassuring to talk to. )
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He trusts Laura with this. More than he would trust any of the other mutants here. He knows that this knowledge would upset a great number of them, if not all. Not that it wouldn't bother her too, but not in the same way. She doesn't have the same bad memories of Magneto that the others do. ]
I understand that.
[ Words can be eloquent, sentiment can be meaningful, and Erik can tell her everything he believes and still remember how it took him years to no longer blame himself for his own mother's death. Sometimes he still does. If only he'd been stronger, if only he'd done better. It's easy to fall down that slippery path. ]
Sometimes where actions fail you, words are the best way to approach an issue. [ Logan isn't some enemy she needs to find a way to deal with. She wants to be closer to him— that much is evident to Erik. He also knows that's not going to happen without words. Genuine, heartfelt words. ] You should speak to him, Laura. Tell him the same you're telling me now. That you would like for him to have... some sort of meaningful presence in your life.
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Well when you put it like that, it almost makes sense.
( Almost makes her whole convoluted approach seem silly when it's cast against such a reasonable perspective. Still, the thought of just... sitting down and outright saying all of this to Logan is such a viscerally uncomfortable, daunting concept that her little smile doesn't linger for very long.
It's the what if of it all. It's the once bitten, twice shy of it all. It's a few formative memories at a very impressionable age, and if she were to take a few seconds to imagine saying any of this to the Logan she knew as a girl, she can only imagine herself getting raked over the coals and taken apart.
But this man isn't the Logan she knew. He deserves a chance to be his own version. He's earned that much.
She sighs, and sounds a little self-deprecating when she asks, mostly jokingly: )
Are all families this complicated?
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