Work Text:
"Hello."
Erik looked up from his place on the floor, shifting on his cot and blinking at the low light filtering through the open door of his cell. He'd already been let out to hunt for the night so he watched the approaching boy with open curiosity.
The boy was shorter than Erik, dressed finely, white skin so pale like the master and his kin, with eyes a startling bright blue. They reminded Erik of the tiny flowers that grew right at the edge of the icy lake east of the castle. Erik shifted his eyes to the floor once he realized the boy must be a 'master' too, gaze following the spaces between the smoothed stones, the pattern already as familiar as the lines on the hardwood door. Most of the Death Dealers didn't like the dog being 'impudent'.
He hated them all but he wasn't stupid enough to earn himself a beating every day. Twice a week was enough.
He wondered if the boy expected a reply. Erik could smell the other's curiosity in the air and something else. Surprise? Excitement?
"Raven had said there was another boy being kept here. I hadn't believed her, of course, because father would never and I can't believe I haven't met you yet and you're staying down here, though why on earth the Council would keep you here, I don't know. Is it true that you're a werewolf? You don't look like one, or, well, I don't think you look like one. I haven't seen one yet and the Death Dealers say they look the right monsters. Father should've told me and, oh, er, sorry, um, I'm Charles, by the way."
Erik blinked, watching the other boy flush with embarrassment. He didn't know how to react, confused with the other's genuine curiosity. If the vampire child didn't know about Erik, did the other boy really think his 'father', whoever he was, or anybody on the Council had put Erik here by mistake?
Still confused on how to react, he grasped the most familiar idea of what to do.
"I'm Erik."
He supposed it wouldn't do to be rude. Mama had taught him better, every lesson ingratiated into him, still more precious now than ever, and it was sort of funny how the boy fidgeted as if he had the right to be uncomfortable.
The boy visibly brightened, smiling all too wide like a child with a new toy. Erik smothered the rising resentment, choosing instead to focus on this vampire he'd never seen before. He flinched in surprise as a small hand was thrust before his face.
"Hello, Erik. A pleasure meeting you."
He stared at the proffered hand. The rest of the vampires were either calling him 'boy' or 'dog'.
No one had called him 'Erik' since...since his mother had screamed for him to run.
Erik turned away, biting back a snarl as pain and anger welled up inside him.
He stood suddenly, relishing the small satisfaction for the way he was taller than the boy by a few inches, able to glare menacingly down at the other boy as the other vampires had done to Erik, the vampire child's hand looking limp as the boy looked startled and uncertain.
"You don't get to call me that, m'lord. Your kind don't get to call me that. Erik was the name of the pup whose family your kind murdered."
Erik bared his teeth in an ugly snarl, head held high despite knowing his words meant another beating for him tonight. It would be worth it, worth it to see this vampire child squirm and run to his mama, run like the pathetic boy that Erik was no more.
Entire minutes passing in silence, the boy looking shocked then confused, opening his mouth as if he was about to argue with Erik, but then those eyes suddenly widened, a horrified expression on his face, looking as if he'd realized something.
"You're one of the--! Oh! Oh--"
Erik's snarl faded abruptly at the sight of the boy, blue blue eyes looking incredibly pained, horror and grief evident. Erik felt his heart clench, the other boy's small red mouth parted.
"Oh, Erik."
And then the boy stepped forward, slowly, as Erik took a step back, letting out a small sound his papa had taught him to warn others away.
The boy took another and this time Erik growled louder, eyes dilating a bit as the wolf stirred awake, restless, caged, cornered, senses heightened just like that night when the Death Dealers came to Erik's coven, except, not really. All of Erik was focused on the other boy, the feeling like that of fear buzzing through him but different somehow, awareness picking everything up and nothing all the same, nothing but those intense blue eyes that said everything, everything.
Yet another step closer, Erik frozen in place this time, barely breathing, the wolf in him almost whining with urgency, loud and broken, and then silence, a warm hand on his chest, gentle, and he was Erik again, just Erik, the wolf suddenly quiet, the rage that fueled it still there but...not quite. And then the boy was crying, lips that were drawn tight for a moment parting in shaky breaths.
"I'm so so sorry, Erik, I didn't--you're--I..." the boy trailed off, still looking at Erik, still touching Erik but just barely. And then Erik, too, was shedding tears, and it felt like it'd been so long, so long ago since he'd last mourned, so long since he'd let the rage relent to grief. This boy had no right, none at all to come in here and make Erik break like those first few days after his capture.
Erik wondered if the boy, if Charles could feel Erik's heartbeat, could press a hand through Erik's flesh and bones, parting its way to Erik's heart and just grasping it in its palm, so easily making it stop. Because suddenly, and this, this made fear crawl up Erik's spine, suddenly, something in Erik entertained the idea that if Charles could, Erik would let him.
"Leave." Erik said, easily mimicking the icy tone so often used around him. Charles had yet to withdraw his hand but the other boy's face crumpled into something even more pained.
Erik hadn't realized he'd felt warmer in what felt like years until the other boy had withdrawn his hand.
When Erik curled up to sleep later, he pretended he hadn't heard with sharp clarity the hushed whisper of 'I'm so sorry, Erik' that drifted through the gently shut door.
***
He meets the others like him during a communal hunt (the vampires letting them out, letting them hunt and cook for themselves, because unlike their masters, they didn't subsist on blood alone).
He supposes they are his new coven now. Wolves bound in their human form, without the fangs and muscle of the true werewolves, their brothers, but inhumanly strong nonetheless, immortal with just as much bloodlust and rage, though not as mindless.
It doesn't feel right, though.
Covens of their kind rarely had any like Erik or like those gathered here as slaves.
A coven mostly consisted of the true werewolves and only several bound in the human form but undeniably carrying William Corvinus' blood, living together in strange harmony with the knowledge that they were with their own kind. Mama had been like him, looking almost tame compared to the rest of his old coven. He'd heard stories of those like Erik, separating, trying to live with the humans but who eventually returned to live with their true covens in the end, like seeking like.
Though Erik was visibly the youngest among the two dozen or so men and women captured as slaves, he finds out later that his coven had been the very first of many massacred, and that he'd been the reason why Lord Viktor had decided to have 'mercy' on their kind. Erik's kind.
The vampires hadn't known there were those born of werewolf blood and immortality but still retaining a human form, a more human mind, able of control. They hadn't known until they'd attacked, no longer just defending from the stray werewolf but a planned attack on a group of them.
Erik had watched as his mother had joined the fight, easily ripped apart just like the rest of his coven, be they werewolf or like Erik, so easily killed in the face of the Death Dealers. There'd been no excitement, no bloodrage he'd seen in a few battles with other covens of their own kind, only cold calculated moves on the part of the vampires, striking to kill, no real fight.
And then Viktor had found him, wondering how Erik came to be, how there were werewolves who were not quite wolves like Erik's mother and the others. Erik had tried to bite of course, but he had no fangs, no claws, too small, too weak, too angry.
It was Viktor who called him a Lycan, a werewolf who took the human form.
Once he'd seen how futile it all was, no more strength to struggle against one Death Dealer holding him down, Lord Viktor had had 'mercy' on him, had had Erik taken as a slave.
After that, the vampires started the attack on the covens, not merely to kill all but to seek others as weak as Erik, others as helpless, human almost.
He meets them, and though they are all older, maybe wiser, they call Erik, not 'child', not 'pup', not 'boy', but 'brother' and he supposes that, yes, they are his coven now.
***
He doesn't tell the others about Charles, naive Charles, doesn't tell them about the visits he gets from the boy, though they're not really visits. Charles comes just when Erik returns from dinner, knocking tentatively as if it gave Erik's cell dignity, knocking and always always asking for permission, asking "Erik, may I come in?" quiet like, or "Please, Erik. I'd like to talk to you.", but Erik never lets him. Staying awake and silent on his cot until he hears the other's footsteps fading away. It's not like he can say no and it's not like Charles wouldn't able to enter if he wanted to. Erik was just a slave after all.
He doesn't tell the others about Charles but they know all the same. They don't talk about it. Charles isn't one of them.
***
The first time he sees Charles again since the first night Charles had gone to him, Erik is kneeling before Lord Viktor, barely a year of being raised by his jailers and fellow slaves, three others with him for inspection by their master, and Charles, he stands frozen by his father's throne, eyes downcast even as Erik realizes Charles is not merely one of the vampires but an Elder's child. The Elder's child, Viktor's beloved son.
Later, when Charles comes to his cell, Erik says a quiet "go away" before Charles can even ask to come in. Charles leaves and Erik finds himself unable to sleep for a very long time.
***
It was normal for werewolves to pick fights with their own kind, each reveling in the fever of battle. Erik knows this, is no stranger to seeing werewolves from different covens sheding the blood of the other. He knows, yet still feels wretched while watching behind the lines of Death Dealers, watching those of his kind tear each other apart while the Death Dealers wait to strike at whoever survives. It is a common tactic, teaches Lord Viktor when appeasing the humans who dare the vampires' presence to beg for protection from the werewolves.
Werewolves are merely animals, Viktor tells them, who know nothing but to eat, mate, and kill.
Erik should be angry at those words; he does feel angry but the sadness that there is truth in what their master says is heavier.
***
Nights pass and there is no sign of Charles. Erik pretends not to care.
***
When Charles visits, a month later since Erik told him to leave, he asks again if he may enter. When Erik does not reply, Charles continues as if he hadn't been ignored, speaking about his sister-cousin named Raven, about the new village leader who thought of sacrificing a virgin to Viktor, as if a virgin's blood tasted different from others, about the new book one of the braver humans had given him.
Erik sleeps by the door that night, his back pressed against the wood, Charles' voice so soft, stories whispered almost, but Erik catches every word before Charles says "Good night, Erik."
Erik does not say 'good night' back. He does lean harder against the door, waking just before dawn to move back to his cot, Charles and Charles' voice long gone.
***
It takes a day of hauling stones and wood for Erik to realize Charles must be quite lonely.
***
The next night, before Charles can ask permission, Erik opens his door. Locks are not needed in a place where slaves cannot escape, where jailers can hunt you down before you reach the nearest forest. Charles looks startled, fidgeting, before he asks again if he may enter. Erik notices belatedly that a long time must have passed because Charles looks taller, Erik taller still. He hands the other boy a cheap book he'd managed to steal during an excursion to one of the human villages, one Death Dealer handling five slaves on patrol for werewolves, and mostly to make the humans feel marginally better.
And then Charles is smiling while it is Erik's turn to stare. Charles and his 'thank you's and 'oh, Erik' and 'the last book I had had been horribly focused on farming and it's not like I eat cabbage'...it's embarrassing the way it soothes Erik's nerves.
***
Erik is in the council room when Viktor announces that Charles is to be a Death Dealer and hears sentiments like 'my son, make me proud' and the rest of the Council nodding approvingly. He spares a glance at Charles direction, noticing that, if Charles were human, he looks almost a man grown.
Charles is tight lipped and for a moment their eyes meet and Erik knows somehow that Charles is saying sorry though no words form, the room between them, and Charles' gaze on the floor.
***
The years of toiling day in and day out for the vampires have made the vampires complacent. They don't keep an eye out for the slaves as much as they used to when Erik was a boy. The Lycans are made into laborers and watchdogs during the day. And though Erik is not yet fully grown, barely having reached his fiftieth year, he knows that it is only a matter of time. Vampires and werewolves weren't the only immortals.
***
Erik has seen Charles during the other's training only once. Charles, lithe with a sword. He wonders, later, when did Charles' scent start to change, when did Charles start being Charles and not another vampire, not another jailer.
***
They don't touch...deliberately, Erik thinks. Only by chance during nights when it is Erik's turn to stand watch with the others on the wall, when Charles happens to be 'not in the mood for sleep, Erik' and their arms brush because Charles always stands too close, when Charles visits and decides it's too cold to sit at the other end of the room so Erik lets him sit a bit closer, and they talk and talk...
Charles doesn't know what it feels like to run through the forest, on the chase for game, a crossbow in hand, so Erik tells him, appreciating the longing look on Charles' face.
Erik doesn't know what it feels like to talk to humans without scaring them off and 'really, Erik? They are quite skittish but I always let them know I've already fed before going into the villages' and Erik laughs because he likes to imagine what the humans must've felt like in the face of Charles talking about feeding so nonchalantly. He catches Charles looking at him oddly during the rare times he does joke, forgetting that he's with Charles and not his brothers. Charles tells Erik he 'quite likes' the way Erik laughs and smiles and talks and that 'you should do it more', Charles adds with a brilliant smile.
Erik does, not because he was told to, but because of the way Charles smiles when Erik does.
***
Erik kills his first werewolf later on Viktor's orders. He doesn't talk to Charles for a long time, only letting the other in when Charles asks, and they sit in silence when Charles learns of it from the others.
The killing never gets easier even if it's mostly done in self defense, when the werewolves are mad for the kill and Erik and the other slaves are the easier targets compared to the Death Dealers. He eventually starts talking again, though the smiles come a bit harder, rarer.
***
Erik is working in the quarry, having been punished for refusing to strike the first blow against a werewolf during one of the patrols, when Charles is ordered to kill and feed on a human who'd killed another. (Erik had always wondered how the humans dealt with the problem of vampires who needed to feed, how the human nobles paid for their 'protection')
Charles had never done the killing before, having had the blood brought to him since he was a child, never having to deal with a human squealing like a pig before slaughter. Erik only learns of it when he returns to the castle grounds and some of the lower ranking vampires joke about 'Viktor's son refusing to feed' who quickly go quite when a Death Dealer comes into hearing range.
It is a long time before Charles goes to Erik again, looking weak and sallow skinned. By then, everyone in the castle knows the heir to Viktor's seat on the Council has refused to feed, instinct overcome by squeamishness to kill. Erik knows it is not squeamishness but hates it all the same when he sees Charles, dark rings under eyes that were no longer the beautiful shade of blue Erik had admittedly come to look forward to seeing every night.
"You should feed." Erik says after Charles asks for permission to enter.
"Not you too, Erik. Really, it's alright." huffs Charles, hunching his shoulders forward as he brushes past Erik into the room (Charles had it furnished with a few chairs and a rug when Erik had been out working, no longer looking like a cell but a cage all the same).
"Charles. You should feed. You are immortal but it doesn't mean you won't die from hunger."
"Funny, father said the same thing, only it was more of 'you would throw this gift away just so a human can live?'" Charles said irritably, failing in his imitation of Viktor, Erik raising his brow.
It wasn't the first time Charles had gotten annoyed or angry at Erik but those had mostly been caused by stubbornness on Erik's part and not Charles'. He would laugh if it weren't for the worry that stirred heavy in his gut or the fear for the cause of that worry, for why he should even care. And there it was. Erik felt something. About Charles. It was a frightening notion but he'd sensed it the first night Charles had gone to him, had sensed it every single day since then, and Erik did what he usually did when his thoughts turned to those things. He pushed it away. Charles starving to death was more important about something Erik did not want to name.
"For once, I agree." Erik said, no elaboration needed, as he shut the door behind him, Charles slumping down on his cot. Charles stopped short, surprise, anger, then finally weary resignation settling on his features.
"But I can't, Erik."
"You can't? Or you won't?"
"I can't! I've never fed directly from the source and I'd never given killing a human just to feed any thought before!"
Erik crossed his arms, Charles' voice rising with each word.
"Why? Even if the human also killed another? You can't save them all, Charles. Your kind will continue to feed. It's the way things work."
"You only say that because your kind finds it so easy to kill even if you don't have to!"
The words were out before Charles could catch himself, visibly paling at his own words. Erik held his arms against himself as tightly as he could, feeling something icy creep down his back.
"Erik, I didn't mean--"
"So your kind doesn't find it easy to massacre dozens of covens who don't even live anywhere near the humans, killing dozens of werewolves because they have to feed? Oh, wait, I forgot. Our blood is like poison to your kind, you can't really feed on it."
"Erik, that's--I am so sor--"
"You can leave now, Charles."
"Please, Erik..."
Erik feels cold for the rest of the night with Charles gone.
***
It's Raven who goes to him a few nights after the fight, Raven who Erik had always heard about but never met. She looks angelic, her complexion looking more human than vampire, eyes a darker shade of blue than the others. Charles calls her his sister-cousin but Erik knows she isn't like them, not like Charles, not really. She's different and strange and Erik can't help but like her a little bit. Mostly because the Death Dealers treat her almost as badly as the slaves, only she doesn't let it faze her.
From her he learns Charles, the stupid fool, hasn't fed at all, holed up in his chambers in one of the towers where Erik has never been, Viktor still on one of his crusades against werewolves. It is also from Raven where he learns where and how to get to Charles' room undetected and where a certain human is being kept alive for his blood.
When Erik gets to Charles' chambers, hauling the unconscious human to the side of the door, Charles barely stirs from where he lies on his bed, looking more sickly, aged, than when Erik saw him last. All the color completely drained from him, lips that used to be a lovely red were grey and cracked, eyes filmy and almost unseeing.
"Erik?"
The way Charles says his name, rasped out, sounding pained...Erik can do nothing but draw closer, standing over him beside the bed. He expects so many other things but all Charles says is a croaked out apology. Charles, the fool, too weak to even go see Erik, too damn stubborn to do what was best for himself.
"I hope you can forgive me, my friend, for what I said. I hadn't meant--"
"I know." Erik cuts in, already pulling away from the painful sight of Charles towards the unconscious heap on the floor.
"Will you forgive me then?" Charles asks, trying to prop himself on his elbows, eyes staying on Erik.
"Only if you feed."
"Erik, I can't do--"
Erik thrusts the human before Charles, baring the man's arm to Charles.
"Erik, please--" but even while pleading, Erik can see Charles' eyes following the bared flesh hungrily, eyes sharpening, focus evident, hypnotic even.
"Only if. You. Feed."
Erik does not move from Charles' bedside, lifting the human easily. Charles meets his eyes, looking desperate and pleading.
"Feed." he adds again.
Charles is shaking his head but his eyes do not stop from flicking to Erik, then the human's bared wrist, then Erik again.
"If you do not feed, you die. I don't--I don't want you to die."
Erik feels Charles' focus completely on him even before he manages to force out the words, the words true but no less scary admitting. He clears his throat, trying not to look at Charles.
"Feed." he says again, more forcefully but the plea can be heard anyway.
He watches as Charles reaches out with a shaky hand, knuckles standing out in relief. It does not grab for the human's arm, as Erik expects, but for his, Charles' hand cool and clammy, tugging weakly so Erik pushes the human's bare wrist before Charles.
Then Charles is feeding, fangs Erik has rarely seen sinking into flesh, and Erik, Erik is fascinated by the way the red looks on Charles' lips, red against Charles' pale, and Charles, he does not stop even when the human starts convulsing, Erik holding the human down, Charles' eyes on Erik's the entire time, eyes returning to the blue Erik has missed so much all this time, but different, darker, heated. It is different from watching the other vampires feed, vastly different, because Charles manages to make it look right, look simply delicious, perfect.
The air is heavy with the scent of blood and Charles, beautiful Charles looks like his old self. When Charles is done, shuddering as he pushes the drained body away, Erik letting it fall to the floor, Charles' mouth still stained red, Erik forgets himself, unable to stop the urge to lean in and taste a stray droplet of blood on the side of Charles' mouth, and before he knows it, he tastes the metallic tang of blood, then tasting Charles' and Charles' mouth and Charles is kissing him back just as hungrily.
There is no finesse in it, no effortless grace that Charles somehow always manages to exude. It is sloppy, hurried, hungry, starving, and Erik doesn't want it to end, Charles pinned down beneath him on the bed, Charles scrabbling at Erik's arms, Erik's back, more vicious than Erik has ever seen him and he loves it, loves the feel of Charles' strength against his, fighting but also giving in, letting Erik hold him down.
Barely thinking, his mind swimming in the haze of CharlesCharlesCharles, senses completely filled with everything Charles, Erik ruts against him, Charles keening as Erik manages to pull away from Charles' wicked mouth, latching on the skin right below his jaw. He does not remember when Charles had managed to wrap his legs around Erik's waist but Erik just goes with it, grinding down, rutting against Charles while Charles moans, wanton like, before capturing Erik's lips once again.
He does not notice when Charles finishes but the scent of arousal and sex is heavy in the air. He comes only a few moments later, gripping down against Charles, licking, kissing, biting without breaking flesh.
Erik leaves once Charles falls asleep, cleaning everything up and taking the body away before slipping off to the dungeons.
***
His brothers look at him differently and Erik knows it is because of the way his scent has changed somehow. Different. Mated.They don't speak of it, no one condemns him, just looking at him with a curiously sad expression.
***
When Charles visits, it is no longer to only talk anymore. And when Erik slips in to Charles' chambers, it is not to force Charles into feeding on human blood.
***
When Erik lets slip a quite "I love you" when he thinks Charles is sleeping, curled naked against his side. Charles' eyes snap awake, widening. Before Erik knows it, he's on his back, breathless with the look in Charles' eyes. Charles rides Erik then, until Erik begs to finish, cock buried deep inside Charles, aching to spill inside.
And then Charles says "I love you, loved you so long, Erik", Erik's world shifts a bit, different, strange, warm, and he finishes inside Charles, almost weeping at all the suffocating sensations threatening to bury him alive.
***
Erik is happy. He is happy and it itches sometimes, that he can be happy because of Charles. His mate. His brothers cannot fault him for it.
He is happy enough that he chooses to stay when Raven comes to him with an offer of escape. An offer to leave with her. He stays for Charles. He stays to comfort Charles in the wake of Raven's escape. Her 'flight', Charles would say, not without a sad smile on his face. 'She always did want to fly away from here' Charles had started once and Erik had said 'I know', a bitter taste in his mouth because Erik would never even have enough freedom to say those words to Charles. And from the grief stricken look on Charles' face right after, Charles knew it too.
***
Erik knows it his own fault that he forgets Charles is no ordinary vampire, that Charles is officially a Death Dealer, that Charles is Viktor's son and that Erik is Viktor's pet, the first Lycan, the first dog.
***
Through the years, Erik has become stronger, so much more skilled with all sorts of weapons, having made dozens himself. It is not long before he defeats several Death Dealers in the training yards, when Viktor sees it fit to test them all.
It is not long before Viktor has Erik accompany him to meetings with the council, always the 'loyal dog' by his master's side.
When a meet with the human nobles is set one day, Charles is sent with a handful of Death Dealers to fetch the humans as a guard, Charles being primed for a seat on the Council despite his previous inclinations toward feeding. Erik does not like it one bit.
As soon as Charles' party is in view of the castle, riding on horseback through the snowy pass, it's then that Erik hears it, hears the first howl. He reports it immediately to Viktor, urging the Elder to send Death Dealers to assist Charles and the rest, Viktor brushing him off.
'It is a test' he says, seated on his throne, ignoring the way Erik has tensed.
When the werewolves come into to view, Charles' party has already sighted the threat, but Erik, his everything is screaming to run to Charles, too many werewolves, Charles would never be able to--he urges Viktor again but it falls on deaf ears, so he turns to the other Death Dealers, surely they knew Charles, surely they cared.
His heart thudding loud in his ears, he does what he has never done, has never thought possible, has never thought to try, what he has always wanted to do since the day Viktor had set him as part of his personal guard.
He runs, he runs to Charles, stealing a horse ignoring every shouted order from behind him. Charles, his Charles is in danger, so Erik runs the horse hard and fast, and he can smell them, smell the wolves and he has never hated the smell so much in his life as he did in that moment, Charles' face looking stricken as the humans easily fall, Charles doing his best to stand and fight while the rest of the Death Dealers, smarter, wiser, flee seeing they are outnumbered.
He hears his name, sharp and clear, Charles' voice, panicked, maybe for Erik, maybe for himself. All the humans have fallen and it is only Charles who stands as target.
The pain he feels, he thinks it is from the fear of Charles getting hurt, getting killed, but a moment later, the pain is stronger, more intense and he stumbles onto the ground, retching as his bones break and flesh tear, ripping apart then coming anew.
He is on all fours in a blink, hunched, strength coursing throughout this new body. He does not have time to think, already bursting forward with new found speed, power rushing through his veins, crashing through to stand between Charles and...and his brothers. The other werewolves look startled, curious before Erik lets out a low growl from deep within, chest rumbling as he stands on his hind legs, towering over all, the others yielding, backing off.
He does not relax, standing tensed as he watches the others go, something in him wondering why he too does not go, run with his own kind, free. Charles' tentative 'Erik?' reminds him. He turns to see Charles looking so small, splattered black with blood and dirt. He crouches lower for Charles, nosing closer toward the small hand outstretched toward him. He licks at it, tasting Charles, tasting home and safe and mine, breathing Charles, before it all goes wrong, his body instinctively tensing when he senses danger, senses Charles' kind approach, on foot, on horseback.
They are surrounded and Erik goes mad when Charles is pulled away, chains finding their way around Erik's neck and arms, claws scrabbling at the heavy metal, tightening around him, tighter and tighter and Charles screaming for them to stop, held back by his own kind.
***
Over the years, Erik has forgotten what it is like to be beaten. He remembers now, all the days before Charles, before Charles and Charles' smiles and laughter and kisses and 'I love you, Erik's, remembers it, relishing the rage, mind numb with it as his body howls in pain with every strike, every lash cutting into his flesh.
***
"Erik..."
"..."
"Erik, you have to wake up, please--oh god..."
His body feels broken, weak, where he hangs chained against the wall, having returned to his Lycan form. He sees Charles, Charles and his wonderful blue eyes, tears flowing freely at the sight of Erik, hands raised, almost touching but looking like he feared he would cause Erik more pain.
Erik watches as he sees something harden in Charles' eyes, resolve, before he is falling forward into Charles' arms, strong and warm. Charles has set him free, his mind tells him but his body is too busy touching all of Charles, breathing in the scent of him, safe, steady.
Then Charles is talking, pressing something metal into Erik's hands. They are keys, he sees, keys through the dungeons and gates, keys to freedom. His mind is too busy before he notices Charles is gone, the doors open, warmth he'd felt fading.
With renewed strength, he finds his way through the passages, killing a few guards and freeing the others, the Lycans, his brothers. He frees a few humans too, the latest tithe to Viktor, and a werewolf who the vampires had managed to capture. Half his mind is far away, somehow wondering why his mate is not with him, while the rest is too busy fighting, too busy clawing through one vampire after the other, many of his brothers falling to the Death Dealers, bloodlust running through his veins.
Later, it hits him, while he runs through the woods he knows so well, that he is free, he is alive, and he sets out freeing others, calling many to his cause, werewolves, Lycans, even humans braver than most, willing to be turned. He cannot help but feel that something is missing after a while. He knows it is because of Charles but Charles had chosen to stay with his own kind, with his own who'd let Charles go into danger, who didn't care for Charles, but Charles had chosen to stay...Though pleased at their progress, Erik howls at night in his other form, feeling alone, feeling not--right, even when all that should, all that he had wanted before Charles, was his, freedom for his brothers, for them all.
They manage to create a base of sorts between the lake and the foot of a mountain, defensible, where they work during the day and stand guard during the night for the vampires, ready to fight, waiting, waiting.
***
Erik decides that the waiting is over when word reaches him that Charles was being held captive. The others do not argue but he goes alone nonetheless to save the one who set Erik free.
It is almost easy the way he gets in, easier even to break Charles out, easier to hold him close, to kiss him, touch him, smile recklessly as Charles smiles back lopsidedly, afraid for Erik, happy he came, and 'Erik, you shouldn't have come, you fool, you stupid stupid fool, oh god, I love you' and they're running and Erik should've known better to think it would be easy.
They are outnumbered before Erik can sense them fully, and the experienced hands of Viktor wrapped around Charles' throat is enough to still Erik from struggling. Erik knows that the older vampire never bluffs, too ruthless, too cruel, despite Charles' being his own son.
He is beaten but does not struggle much, fearing for Charles, the vampires obviously knowing about Charles and him, how could they not? Charles had betrayed them all for him, had betrayed his own father. He goes willingly when he senses Charles nearby, waiting for a chance, still in his weaker form, and then they lead him into a chamber he'd never entered before, chains holding him tightly as his eyes land on Charles, his chest bare like Erik, tied to a post in the middle of the room and he knows suddenly what is about to happen, he knows and he struggles, thrashing against his bounds while the Death Dealers beat him into submission once again, the silver arrowheads keeping him from turning. They chain him kneeling before Charles.
And Charles, oh god, Charles, he is smiling that broken smile, worried for Erik yet again but still happy, so foolishly happy to see him. Erik tries to pull against the chains, words unable to form other than 'nonono!'.
Viktor is saying something but Charles does not look like he hears, only looking straight at Erik, eyes welling with tears that do not fall, smiling brokenly while the other vampires file out of the room. Erik pulling at the chains more desperately than before, barely feeling the bite of the chains, the burn of silver in his back.
"Erik, love, don't, please. It'll be alright, Erik. Everything will be alright..." and then it is a broken chain of 'IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouErikIloveyou' while the sounds of something cranking open fills the room. Erik cries openly as the ceiling divides above them, letting in the sunlight, the hateful sunlight flood in, and he is howling, weeping and it is all 'CharlesCharlesIloveyounoNONOCHARLES!' before the sunlight hits Charles' beautiful lovely skin, the soft brown hair Erik has run his hands through a hundred times, his blue eyes closing at the very last moment, and Erik lets it go, lets the rage take over completely so he does not have to see what used to be Charles, blinded by anger and pain and 'Charlesgonegonenononono--'
***
Later, when all the vampires are dead, their bodies lying strewn all over the castle and its walls, Lycans and werewolves running free and wild and victorious, the pain does not ebb, the rage only intensifying, giving way to focus, checking itself.
Erik has a war to fight and hateful enemies to kill, to annihilate...
***
He is older, much much older and the war has raged through the centuries. The pups believe they can win and that victory is still in sight. Foolish. He knows he has already lost.
But Erik does not fight to win. He fights for the pain that does not ebb.
FIN