Chapter Text
Charles
He never felt the bullet hit him. Didn’t hear the scream that escaped him as his motionless body crumpled, a layer of gritty sand sticking to his sweat-soaked face.
The voices in his team’s heads and the audible cries became one and the same as they all seemed to focus at once. They were screaming his name.
Breathing was suddenly a challenge – Charles desperately tried to push air in and out but his lungs didn’t want to cooperate. So was moving, it seemed. Had the adrenaline of being shot made him this numb? Footsteps pounded around his head, and within a moment, Erik’s firm hands were lifting him. Everything else melted away as the man he’d been unable to hold back from killing now cradled his head softly in his lap. It was warm, and secure. Despite his resistance, he could feel himself slipping closer to sleep, fighting off his drooping eyelids.
“Charles, can you hear me? You have to stay a-“
Raven
Charles was her whole world for so long. Her big brother, her idol, her life. Yes, he was annoying, but he was so clever and brilliant and- and now he was just a body in a hospital bed. Her Charles. It couldn’t have happened to him. This… thing, wasn’t him. A ventilator pumped air into his lungs for him, a tube fed him through his nose, a number of IVs gave him countless medications to help keep him stable.
He was lucky to have his own room. Or rather Raven was lucky. Charles wouldn’t know any different, his comatose body blissfully unaware of their surroundings. It meant she could just sit with him in peace for a while, or read to him, or cry. She tried not to do too much of that, especially not in the room with him – the small chance that he could hear her, and smaller still, understand her was enough to discourage her from showing any weakness in his presence. Despite this, she did talk to him a lot. It took some getting used to, given that usually a conversation with Charles would prove difficult to get a word in edge-ways. He could be a good listener, in the right circumstances, but wow, he loved the sound of his own voice. Raven thought it odd, the way she missed him even though he was right in front of her.
It had been 4 weeks since the accident in Cuba. She had to call it that. She had to get used to reserving any blame and accepting what had happened. It’s what Charles would surely have done, had he been conscious and able to communicate. Still, it was hard not to want to strangle Erik until he was blue in the face. Mouth off at Moira for being so thoughtless as to try to shoot a man who can manipulate metal with his mind. Even Charles himself – who must have known Erik’s intentions from the beginning – could share that blame, choosing to aid Erik in killing Shaw and failing to prevent Moira from making that shot. What a mess they’d managed to get into, but why did Charles have to be the one who got hurt? It felt like it always was. Got a problem? Charles will handle it. A heavy burden? Charles will carry it. If it had to be one of them, it was always going to be him because he never lets it happen to somebody else. That’s his real gift. He stops other people getting hurt by taking it on himself. Was it just him or were all big brothers this stupid, she wondered?
Raven sat adjacent to his bed, gripping his hand, begging for him to live. He had to live.
Erik
“How is he?” Erik’s voice was solemn as he muttered the question down the phone.
“You’d know if you came down here.” Raven replied, bitterly. She took a breath, realising how she sounded. Had to remind herself it wasn’t his fault. “Not woken up yet. They did the tracheotomy, took him off the sedatives yesterday, but he hasn’t come round yet.”
“Well it’s only been a day..” He tried to keep them both hopeful, but Raven wouldn’t have it.
“The doctors said he might not wake up. And even if he does, he still won’t breathe on his own. They took scans of his spine – he won’t walk. Lucky if he gets his arms and his lungs back, they said.”
Erik was stunned into silence. Barely able to take in what Raven was saying, each word like a ton of bricks bludgeoning him over and over. You did this to him. You did this.
“Erik? Are you even listening? Do you understand what this means?”
Lucky to get his lungs back? Lucky? For a fleeting moment, he thought an awful thought. Death would have been kinder. His dearest friend, the only person to show him unconditional care, to accept him completely, to even come close to understanding Erik and still choosing to believe he was a good person. Or rather that he could be a good person. Now he’d taken everything from him.
That was a Charles thing. Seeing the potential in all people. Well, what potential did Charles have now? If he woke up, he could hardly hope to feed himself again.
“Why won’t you come and see him?”
“I just can’t face it, Raven. I’m sorry.” He truly was.
“You’re a selfish coward, Erik Lehnsherr. My brother needs you – you know you’ll be the first one he asks for if he wakes up. When I get to the hospital at 9 tomorrow, I’d better see you there with two coffees.”
Raven hung up without another word. That girl was fierce – Erik couldn’t deny that he admired it in her, but what a thorn in his side she could be.
Charles
How long he’d been aware of the void, he wasn’t sure. There were a lot of things he was unsure of. Firstly, what on earth was going on? No feeling, no vision, no memory. He grasped at bits of sounds – a few familiar voices sometimes came and went around him, the words themselves were so far away and sounded like another language. The hiss and beep of machines started to fill in, pounding against his eardrums. Then his taste followed, the dry cavern that was his mouth started to ache, a thirst desperately begging to be quenched. Eventually, he started to notice the way his body refused to move. In turn, he tried each part of him; starting with his fingers, hands, wrists, then his elbows, then shoulders, chest, abdomen, pelvis, thighs, knees, calves, ankles, toes. None of it would budge, at least, not that he could feel. He couldn’t feel much of anything, come to think of it. What his mind never even dabbled in was why he was here. He wasn’t able to even summon the thought, never considering what might have happened to him that could have led to this.
Eyelids. That’s why it was so dark. Willing them to budge, they slowly drifted to reveal blinding hospital overheads. Nausea overcame him almost immediately. Someone’s alarm was sounding. Shhhh, turn it off. Why was it so noisy?
“Charles… Charles? Are you awake?” Raven’s delicate fingers toyed with the curls of his hair.
Can’t breathe. Shit, he can’t breathe.
“Charles, it’s alright. The nurses will clear the obstruction, and then you should breathe easier, okay? It’s okay.” Her touch was gone, footsteps surrounding him, faces blurred. Some new machine was placed in his mouth and begun to whir. Suction pulled at the bile down his throat, scraping and clawing away at him. Seconds later, air begun to fill his lungs again, wholly out of his own control.
Raven, what’s going on? He sent telepathically. Even mentally, his tone was panicked. He was terrified.
“Cuba, Charles. Do you remember? We were all on the beach. There was an accident. I’m sure the doctors can explain it to you better but…”
Just tell me, Raven. Please.
“You were shot. In the neck- in the spine. You were in a coma for over a month. The injury you have is complicated.”
What does that mean? Why can’t I feel anything? Why can’t I move?
She scrunched her face up, barely able to meet his fearful gaze. “It’s called a transection of the spinal cord. Yours is at the C2 level, it’s incomplete but the damage is severe. The surgeons did everything they could.”
I won’t walk again. Visions of his future came thick and fast, his life confined to a chair – or potentially just a bed.
“It’s more than that, Charles. You have a tracheotomy tube in your neck, breathing for you because your lungs are paralysed. Everything below your level of injury is paralysed.”
When will it repair? They must be able to repair it.
“The doctors said you might recover your breathing, and potentially some limited use of your arms if you’re lucky.”
And if I’m not lucky, what? I’m stuck like this, forever?
“I don’t know, Charles. But what I do know is that I’m here for you. Hank is here for you, the rest of the team is too. We all want to help you get through this.”
He felt his heart start to pump fast. This couldn’t be real, this was a bad dream. If only he could pinch himself awake, then any moment now, he’d be in his sheets at the mansion, last night’s cup of tea left to go cold on his bedside table.
Raven’s hand cupped his cheek, wiping away the tears as he sobbed uncontrollably.
Erik
Erik was trying. Really, he was. He’d made it as far as the double doors to the intensive care unit, before turning on his heel, deciding he couldn’t do it. The image of Charles’ limp form he’d created in his mind, swamped with medical equipment, pale and unmoving, was too much to bear. How could he face this man, whom he’d hurt to such a life-changing degree, without physically falling to his knees and begging his forgiveness? Charles would hate that.
The voice in the back of his head urged him inside, knowing he’d hate himself more for leaving Charles again.
Taking a moment to think, Erik stole a quick breath in and marched to the area he’d been instructed to go to when he’d first arrived. He knew it was going to be bad. Every image in his head couldn’t have prepared him for the sight of his dear friend in such a state. Charles’ face was pale and gaunt, stubble beginning to show on his chin. He never let it get like that in all the time Erik had known him. The tracheotomy tube was jarring, protruding from his neck and attached to a machine that hissed at his bedside. Frail hands laid lifeless at his sides, resting on a cornflower blue blanket that was pulled up to his middle. The bed was elevated slightly, so that Charles could see more of the room than the ceiling alone. His eyes were dark: tired in a way that lack of sleep couldn’t justify. His dark hair, despite Raven’s persistence, had become matted at the back and the faint smell of sweat lingered in the air.
Erik. You’re here.
“Yes, I had to see you.” It was mostly true. He thought it best not to say about Raven’s threats out loud, even though Charles had likely read him like a book already. “How are you?”
It was such a stupid question.
Not great.
“I think you’re allowed to be doing not great. Considering.” It was all Erik could think to say, as he drew a plastic chair from the corner of the room towards the hospital bed. Charles followed him with his eyes as he took the seat.
Erik paused, reflecting on Cuba and everything else that all seemed like a million terrible things ago. “You were right about Shaw… killing him, nothing good came from it.”
Well, at least he can’t hurt anyone now.
“But you got hurt, Charles! You told me not to do it, you tried to stop me, you did everything-“
Erik. You think I didn’t know you were going to kill Shaw anyway? I knew what I was getting into when I got on the jet in the first place. What the mission really was in your eyes – you’re forgetting I can see through them.
“I- You knew?”
Yes, Erik. I was holding out hope that I could change your mind, but I knew.
“This is a mess. All of it. I know you’ll insist it’s not my fault but we both know that’s a lie we’ve been telling ourselves so that we still have something left. You’ve got Raven and Hank, I suppose. There’s no one else that cares about me, apart from you – and why, I don’t know. I don’t deserve your kindness.”
And what if I did blame you, Erik?
He looked back at him, dumbfounded. Where was he going with this?
I’ll still be in this bed, having strangers wipe my arse, all the same. It’s a waste of time, throwing around blame. Is the only reason you’re here because you blame yourself? What if I’d been hit by a bus, randomly?
“Of course, I’d still be here for you.”
So you see how it doesn’t change anything? What’s happened has been and gone. The only thing any of us can do is move on.
“You are allowed to be angry, Charles. If you need to be angry at me, be angry at me.”
Really, Erik. I’m fine. Getting angry won’t make my body work again.
There was no denying the deeply pained look that flashed across Charles’ face. It had to be so much for him to take in. Erik couldn’t begin to imagine how terrifying it must have been when he first woke up, trapped in his own body. And then to find out that there’s no cure, that he just had to accept this injury as his new reality. Thinking about the future was still too painful. In the meantime, the team back at the house would do as much to make Charles’ life as easy as it could be – Erik vowed to himself in that moment. He yearned to hold Charles, but knowing that he’d feel nothing made it feel like an empty gesture, so he settled for laying a hand in his hair.
“I… missed… you.” Charles’ words were strained and voiceless – still they were unmistakeable. Barely more than a whisper, Erik leaned in close to return the sentiment.
“We can’t do this here.” He said, knowing someone would be in to check on them soon. How he longed for more than the subtle glances they shared. “I should go. Visiting hours are over in 10 minutes and the last thing either of us need is the nurses dragging me out of here.”
Stay. Please.
Erik’s heart broke over the desperation he sent through their telepathic connection. “I wish I could, my friend. I promise, I’ll be back in the morning. Farewell.”
You don’t mean that, do you?
“Of course I do.”
Then I hope you’re prepared to face Raven. Goodbye and good luck, my friend.
Shit.