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The song starts with a hard and aching beat, low on the piano’s register, and as soon the lead singer starts, Erik’s mind is flooded with memories - memories of Charles's words comforting him, and memories of hanging on to those words instead of Charles when he had a bad night with Shaw.
I got one friend laying across from me/I did not choose him, he did not choose me
His heart pounds and he cannot think of anything except a mix of memories. Choking on them is too much. His breaths are short and labored, and he wants to calm down, but cannot.
Collapsing to the floor is all he can manage, and just as he does, he half sees and half hears Anya and her voice.
“Daddy, what’s wrong?”
He tries to breathe through the dread, but all that comes out is a choked, “Charles.”
-
Daddy lies on the floor, breathing as if he’s been crying, and just as she thinks that it might get worse, he says, “Charles.”
Anya has never seen Daddy like this before, but she scampers to the phone and calls the hospital. Daddy does this for her all the time. It is what she should do, she thinks.
“Hello, Pediatric Oncology Department. How may I help you?” a woman asks.
“Is Dr. Xavier there?” Anya says, though she’s not sure if the words come out as she wants them to.
“Say that again,” the woman says, and now Anya’s sure that she’s nervous. She tries to calm down - to act like Daddy does when she’s falling down.
“Dr. Xavier. Is he there?” she asks, more slowly this time.
“He is. May I ask who is calling?”
“Anya Lehnsherr.”
“Sweetie, what are you doing calling?”
“Daddy needs help,” she says just before she looks down at Daddy, still on the floor and curled into a ball.
“Okay, I’ll get Dr. Xavier right now. Can you stay on the line for me?”
She nods, and says nothing. In a minute, the phone plays some music, and she goes to sit next to Daddy. His chest rises and falls quickly, as if he’s not getting air and she doesn’t know what to do for him, except stay on the phone for Dr. Xavier.
The music cuts off and instead of that she hears, “Anya, what’s wrong?”
“Daddy was listening to the radio and then this song came on and he fell to the floor. He can’t breathe, but he said your name and so I called,” she tells Dr. Xavier, still speaking too quickly. But she’s nervous and Daddy’s no better than he was when she started the call.
“Do you want me to call an ambulance?” he asks, patient as he is in the hospital.
“No, Daddy said your name and I think he wants you.”
“Okay, dear. I’m going to hang up and come over. But can you do a few things for me before I get there?”
“Uh huh.”
“Will you get Daddy some water and keep it by him, and ask him a few questions. Just keep him focused on something.”
“Okay, Dr. Xavier.” There’s a click on the other end and she puts the phone down and tries to find a glass for Daddy to drink out of.
She walks to the kitchen, and just as she’s about to do as Dr. Xavier says, she remembers that all the glasses are on the top shelves. She wants to rush back to ask Daddy what to do, but she doesn’t think that bothering him will help.
As soon as she’s about to panic, and call the hospital back, she remembers that Daddy always keeps a glass in the bathroom, right where she can reach on the ledge of the sink.
She grabs it, fills it with water, and comes back to Daddy.
“Daddy, Dr. Xavier said you needed this water and that I needed to ask you questions. Can you drink this for me?” she says as she puts the glass closer to Daddy.
He doesn’t say anything, but he nods and tries to hold the glass.
“Careful,” she says before trying to add a question. “Do you know your name?”
He takes a huge gulp of air before he says, “Erik Lehnsherr.”
“And what’s my name?”
“Anya.” He’s still shaking as he says it, but he sounds better.
“Where are you?”
“Our apartment.”
She lets him rest again, and tries to rub her hands against his arms and back. He always does that when she’s scared and even though she’s so small compared to him, she thinks it’s what will make him feel better before Dr. Xavier gets here.
-
Charles nearly rushes through the doors of Erik’s building, because he’s not sure what’s happened at all.
Anya’s scared voice still plays in his head and he tries to hurry past the doorman and to the elevators.
He pushes the button more times than is necessary, but he’s so nervous that he just wants to be with Erik and talk to him.
The elevator’s far too slow for his tastes, but as soon as the doors open, he pushes the button to Erik’s floor and pounds the CLOSE button for good measure.
It takes far longer than he wants to stop moving and then Charles bounds out and tries to carefully school his expressions before he knocks. Erik doesn’t need to see Charles worried if Anya’s description is right.
He slows his breathing down and tries to fix his shirt and pants. He will be calm and professional, even now.
Knocking four times, sure and steady, Charles waits until he hears Anya’s footsteps come closer. She makes quick work of the locks, and opens the door for him without asking if it’s him.
He thinks he should tell her not to do that again, but lets it go when he sees Erik still on the floor.
Erik looks like he’s been hyperventilating and crying - his chest still working hard to breathe and how red his eyes are - which are probably true. But instead of trying to get Erik off the floor and into his bed, Charles sits next to Erik and waits.
“Erik, I’m here,” he says quietly, all but forgetting Anya. She must be near him, he’s sure she wouldn’t leave Erik like that, but he hasn’t looked at anyone except Erik since he stepped into the apartment.
“You’re here,” Erik says, his voice hoarse and strained.
“You wanted me here. I’ll always be here.” That’s only a fraction of what Charles really feels, but right now, he wants to make sure Erik feels safe - is safe - and then they’ll discuss the others later.
Erik makes an attempt to grab one of Charles’ hands, and as Erik does, his hand knocks the glass over. It shatters into pieces between them and all Charles wants to do now is to get Erik into his bed and away from that. He wants to cocoon Erik away with the help of his telepathy and ease away all of the pain that bubbled out earlier.
“Let’s get you into bed. I’ll clean this up and and then be back, if you can manage that,” he says, because he knows how careful he should be right now.
Erik only nods and so Charles gets to his feet, careful to avoid the broken glass, and manages to picks Erik up. They walk slowly from the living room to the bedroom and as if on cue, Erik all but falls into the bed, his chest rising as if he overexerted himself.
“I’m going to clean up the glass and talk to Anya. Will you be okay?”
Charles waits for Erik to nod again before he leaves.
Anya’s not in the living room when he cleans up the glass, but he knocks on her room after making sure that there aren’t any stray shards.
She opens the door just as she did before and he walks in to see her room for the first time.
“Do you want me to call one of your friends for you to visit? I don’t think Daddy’s going to be one-hundred-percent okay until later.”
She shakes her head. “I want to stay and help if I can.” There’s a determination in her voice that reminds Charles just how much she's already been through.
“That’s fine. I’m going to be with him in his room. Do you need me to get you anything before I do?”
Another shake of her head. “I’ll be fine. If I need anything, I’ll knock or ask.” She adds a wave of her fingers, and Charles smiles.
“Perfect, dear. Thank you for calling earlier, too. That was a very brave thing to do.”
“It was what Daddy wanted,” is her reply. She turns away from Charles and looks towards her bookshelf.
Hopefully she’ll be okay with a book for a few hours. He slips out of her room after that, and walks back into the kitchen for a different glass and some water. The radio is still on, though Anya must have turned down the volume at some point because Charles can barely make out the words.
He turns it off completely and goes back to Erik’s room, where Erik’s still huddled in on himself.
“Do you need anything?” Charles asks before he even thinks to sit next to Erik.
“You,” is Erik’s reply, quiet as ever.
Charles obliges and comes to rest on his side of the bed before Erik curls up next to him.
“Can you tell me what happened? You don’t have to. We can just stay like this.” It’s hard for him to not be clinical about what happened, but he’s not here as a doctor, and so he’s avoiding asking the questions he knows he should ask.
“This song came on NPR and then all I could see were memories - you and I in the hospital, Shaw after he took me home. They were just too much. That’s all.”
Charles hums his agreement, and lets a hand rub small circles into Erik’s back.
“How else can I help?” he says quietly, matching Erik’s volume.
“What you’re doing. It feels good. Right.”
Charles does just that, letting Erik calm down to the slow movements of his hand and an occasional hum.
He adds mental reassurance when he feels Erik’s body relax, and waits. He’s willing to wait as long as he’s needed because he’s already waited long enough.