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Charles is aware that almost all the men in Easy Company find Erik… unsettling. If he’s honest he could probably include a good proportion of X Company in that number too. Generally it isn’t because of anything that Erik does, specifically; they just find the aura of menace he carries unnerving, even in a man they know is on their side. But sometimes he’s quite sure that Erik is making them jump on purpose. Frank Perconte being a case in point.
It wasn’t in a mean-spirited way, Charles thought loyally if a little guiltily. In fact, he thought that Erik was fond of the small, tough sergeant. It was just that Erik had an odd – ok, slightly evil – sense of humour and he liked the way Perconte squeaked whenever he turned around to find that Erik had crept up behind him and was looming over him. And Perconte squeaked every. Single. Time.
“I mean what the hell?!” Charles watched Erik stride away through the trees and then peered over to where Perconte was holding a hand clenched in his overcoat over his heart, eyes wide and spooked. “It’s not enough that I’ve got fucking Germans trying to kill me, I’ve got to deal with Ltn Lensherr trying to give me heart attacks too? Why the fuck does he pick me out all the time?!”
“It’s all that teeth cleaning you do, Frank. The Shark senses a fellow dental lover.”
“Shut up Luz” Perconte scowled at his company mates who were currently cracking up around him and whined “How in Christ’s name does he do it though? I swear he keeps track of me somehow…”
Charles smothered his laugh hastily and went back to huddling around his coffee mug for warmth. Really. This is a guy who’s had about half a dozen ticking chunks of metal on his arm since D Day and after all this time he still hasn’t worked out that’s how Erik tracks him down?
* *
When Perconte showed up in Haguenau after leaving hospital the whole of Easy company welcomed him back. Erik was delighted to see him again too and showed it by increasing his Frank scaring campaign and barely giving the man a moment’s peace.
“Erik…” Charles chided after he heard a load yell of ‘Jesus H Christ!’ from downstairs and then his XO came into their room looking smug “Do you really need to torment the poor man so much? He is recovering from an injury.”
Erik grinned at him, showing the wide display of teeth that had him nicknamed ‘The Shark’ by the men. “Exercise is good for injuries, Charles. I’m helping him by making him jump around a bit.”
Charles just shook his head. He doubted Perconte saw it that way, a summation that was proved correct when he overheard another conversation.
“I think he missed you, Frank. He’s just showing you he loves you in his own special way.”
“By frightening me into fits?!”
“I did say it was a special way.”
There was laughter and then another voice chimed in “Yeah, I think Babe’s right, Frank. I think the Shark’s your friend.”
“Great.” Perconte said gloomily “What did I do to get a friend like that?”
“Think you must’a killed a busload of nuns in a past life.”
“Fuck you, you unsympathetic sons of bitches!”
More laughter, with the occasional pop-pop of distant gunfire to be heard underneath it.
* *
It was almost three years after the war when a parcel is delivered to the Westchester mansion that Charles and Erik have been converting into a school, and which is now home to a growing number of young mutants. In it is a wristwatch and a note that just says, ‘I worked it out, you bastard’. The note is signed F. Perconte and on the back of the watch – which has been serviced till it purrs and polished till it gleams – is the engraving ‘With love, fuck you’. Erik nearly laughs himself sick when he reads it, and he wears the watch constantly from then on.
And when he wakes from nightmares of fire and guns and pain – of bitter cold and bone freezing terror, of white skeletal figures reaching for something that he can never give back to them – then the solid tick of the watch is almost as grounding as the comforting beat of Charles’ heart next to his ear as his head is cradled and warm hands stroke down his shaking back.
(Later – years and years later – Erik insists that the wristwatch is buried with Charles out in the grounds of what is now one of the finest academies of learning in the country. “I have to know how to find him” he tells their grandchildren with an odd smile. None of them are surprised when he is found on the bench next to Charles’ grave barely a month after, all ticking quiet at last.)