Well, I got all ready to go to bed, and then it got something stuck in my head. Damnit.

Sigh. Who needs more than four hours of sleep each night? Apparently, not me.

This is probably your fault, [livejournal.com profile] trismegistus. I'll think of a reason why later.


Before the Stars


The sky was awash with ribbons of blue and lilac and gold. A few wisps of cloud glowed orange as they caught the last touch of the sun, the closest tumbling past in a brisk wind. Charles watched it flutter until it was finally torn apart by the breeze, scatterings of orange fire fading into the bright sunset.

There never used to be sunsets like this, when he was a younger man. He remembered red skies and sudden darkness, large and orchestrated, but none of the brilliant colours or slow gradients that were now gradually fading from the sky.

He sent a few dollars every month to an environmentalist group, but there were times when he was willing to forgive the poisons in smog or the acrid taste of car exhaust if it meant he could have sunsets like this.

There was a sharp intake of breath from beside him, and Charles turned away from the panorama. There was a hard set to Erik’s face as he stared into the distance, but Charles didn’t know what he was seeing in the dying embers of the day. Erik had brought them up to the peak of a skyscraper, using a discarded sheet of metal as their own private elevator, and now the whole city lay before them like a map in relief, cars moving below like fish fighting each other to get upstream and the sunset vibrant behind the haze of city life.

It would have been perfect, but Erik’s thoughts were cold and distant; and so Charles rested a steadying hand on his friend’s shoulder, and watched as the pink fire was swallowed by a cascading blue, and felt utterly alone.

Eventually Erik sighed, and his mood softened somewhat.

“I really am sorry,” Charles said. Erik shrugged, and Charles gently squeezed his shoulder. “I know how you feel.”

Erik studied Charles for a moment, and then his lips twisted into a wry grin. “Yes,” he said. “I suppose that you would.”

“She did love you, you know, whatever you felt. She was frightened.”

Erik moved closer to the edge of the building and looked down. “Frightened,” he repeated. “I see. And you, of course, had nothing to do with her… decision.”

Charles sighed. “You know me better than that.”

Erik met his gaze for a moment. “Do I? I wonder.” He looked back down at the city. “But perhaps you’re right, and she was merely frightened. After all, she’s only human.”

“We’re all human.”

Charles took a step towards the edge. A cold gust of wind made him stagger, and Erik grabbed his arm and pulled him to a flatter part of the peak. The wind ruffled Erik’s hair and made his coat billow behind him like a cape. It occurred to Charles that, in a strange way, Erik almost looked at home up there, between the violet sky and red flicks of cloud and steel pinnacles.

The air stilled around them, and Erik returned his gaze downwards. Charles looked down as well, stomping on the sensation of vertigo. There was a small playground near the skyscraper, and parents were busy collecting their children for the evening. They were too far away to see their expressions, but Charles could feel them smiling.

“Humanity might be frightened sometimes,” Charles said, “or cruel, but beneath that it’s capable of amazing, wonderful things.”

“What’s amazing to me is that you can believe that.”

“It’s the truth,” Charles told him. “Inside almost everyone there is such potential for compassion, for understanding.” Erik didn’t respond. “When you look at those people, you must see it.”

The park was empty now, except for two children playing on the swings. A small girl was in the seat, her long red hair flying around as she moved. A little blond boy was pushing her, but as she came back he was standing in the wrong place and got knocked over into the gravel. He bounced back up and as she came by again, he was ready for her. He ran and pushed her at an angle, making her swing in a wild pattern and kick her legs in delight.

A brown haired man grabbed her off the swing as she came close and spoke to the boy, who kicked at the ground in childspeak for “Don’t wanna go home yet.” The man said something else, and then the boy brightened and ran ahead, stopping in annoyance after a few steps when his father didn’t keep up.

“They look small,” Erik said. “Like ants.”

Charles frowned at him. There was something harsh in his expression as he looked down, and in the last echo of the sun, he looked acrid and dangerous.

And beautiful.



Um, yeah. 2am fic, so I expect lots of complaints.
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