Prompt: Imagine a fic about what happened to Charles and the xmen right after he was shot and the brotherhood had left, like getting to a hospital and such...
Charles stared into the sky, which was still filled with smoke and debris. "I can't feel my legs," he repeated. "I can't…I can't feel my legs."
Moira glanced helplessly up at Hank, cradling Charles' head in her lap. "Hank, what do we do?"
"Don't move him. Keep him absolutely still. Alex, go to the plane. Find a working radio. Call for help."
Charles' throat was growing sticky – he tried to swallow but he couldn't. Panic filling his veins, he started to wave his arms around, trying to move, to sit up.
"Charles, please," Moira whispered desperately. "Please stay still."
Charles thrashed even more, moving his chin, wanting to turn his head to look behind him. "Erik – Erik – come back. I'm sorry. We don't want the same things, but that doesn't mean we have to be apart – it doesn't mean you have to leave me."
"Professor," Hank said firmly, laying his hand on Charles' shoulder. "He's gone. Erik's gone."
"He's…he's gone?"
Alex's voice was shaking as he yelled into the radio, "Yes – that's right – please send a helicopter – one of us has been shot, he can't move. Please come soon."
"He's gone," Hank repeated.
"Raven, too." It wasn't a question. Charles knew the answer. "She left too. It's what she wanted."
"Yes," said Hank, his voice breaking. "It's what she wanted."
"This isn't what I wanted, though." Charles reached up and grabbed a fistful of Hank's suit and fur, pulling him down with surprising strength. "I didn't want this. Please."
Hank gently separated himself from Charles' grasp. "I know, Professor. But it's over now. It's done."
Charles passed out a few minutes later as his blood slowly turned the sand beneath him crimson, soaking Moira's knees and Hank's hands. Moira began to freak out, but Hank calmed her down, murmuring, "It's better now. He can't feel the pain. His body is helping him deal with the shock."
Alex stayed on the radio, and the helicopter came quickly. Sean ran into the gust created by the blades so that he could talk to the pilot and medics, helping unload the gurney and filling them in. Hank muttered some numbers and measurements he had taken, and soon the medics had Charles strapped onto the gurney and fastened into the helicopter.
"We have room for one in the chopper," the pilot yelled over the churning blades. "There's emergency airlift coming for the rest of you after that."
Moira moved toward the helicopter, but Sean touched her arm. "Maybe let Hank go," he said softly.
Moira swallowed and nodded at Hank, who leapt into the helicopter and slammed the door shut behind him. Moira crumpled to her knees in the pool of blood, tears cascading down her cheeks. Alex and Sean sat next to her, rubbing her back. Hank watched their forms grow smaller and smaller, until they were just specks of black and red amidst the vast expanse of brown sand.
Charles awoke once during the flight, immediately starting to scream. A medic injected a sedative into him, and Hank, who had finally returned to his human-like appearance, rubbed his arm until he calmed down, his shouts turning into soft sobs. Every and now and then, he muttered something, and even though Hank couldn't hear him, he knew what he was saying. Erik.
When they got to the hospital, Hank was buffeted to and fro until he had a set of double doors shut in his face, forced to stop by the sign that read: "Medical personnel and patients only beyond this point."
Moira, Alex, and Sean joined him soon enough. Not a word passed between them. Slowly, one by one, they fell asleep on each other's shoulders – until only Hank remaining awake as he stared at those double doors, his heart pounding on and on.