It's like two steps forward and a hundred yards back, watching Erik fold himself into tight constraints and spaces. He'd grown used to his friend and the commanding way he took up an area, demanded Charles attention like there was a thread attached to him that Erik only had to pull. Now though, there's something diminished about his personality, the weight of him on the back of his proverbial feet. It's a situation Charles has only read in the brief thunder-clash of their first meeting, but it echoes around his head and makes him sit a little too quickly, fingertips pressed lightly to glass because he can't bury them anywhere else.

He'll take the room Erik has given him distinct instructions towards only because he doesn't want to explore any further, doesn't want to put the pieces of the family before them together. There's something that climbs up his spine at the memory of his earlier conversations - the drugs, the monsters, the body in the fountain - and even those who caught his attention aren't enough to stop the restless itch.

"We won't be here for long."

Ever the optimist, Charles thinks they can find a way out - for them and for everyone else too because of course he's begun to worry about the citizens already.

"If we can get in, then there must be a way to get out. It's the only logical conclusion."