Rolling in the Deep

Summary: The beach leaves a devastating impact on everyone involved, but perhaps the most impact is the one left on the mind, body and soul of the two most deeply affected by the ending of the Cuban Missile Crisis. It's time to begin the healing, put the conflict behind them and start to try to move on.

Warnings: Very Eventual Slash (Xavier/Magneto)

Inspiration: I think the title makes it obvious.

Chapter one: A fire starting in my heart

I can't feel my legs.

I can't feel my legs.

I can't feel my-

"Quiet!" Erik snapped, shaking his head. He heard a cough from behind him and swung around to face the teleporter whose expression looked partway between amused and concerned. A deadly glare sent his way had Azazel standing and moving towards the door, departing without a word. They thought he was crazy. And to be honest, Erik didn't blame them.

In the two weeks following the confrontation at the beach he had tried to keep up the appearance that the events hadn't bothered him. That turning his back on what were perhaps the closest things to friends he had ever had had left no impact. That leaving Charles, hurt, bleeding and paralysed had not mattered. He wished it hadn't mattered. More than anything, he wished he was the cold hearted leader he pretended to be.

But more than anything, he wished it hadn't happened.

I'm sorry Charles…I never meant for this to happen.

There was no reply. There never was.

There were cars, pulling in and out. Lots of cars, lots of makes, lots of colours. Lots of people. There were tired people, expecting some kind of routine treatment that never had much of an effect and only served to make them more tired. There were happy people who had arrived after hearing good news, that their loved ones would be going home. There were sad people, whose loved ones hadn't made it. There were lots of people and lots of cars in the parking lot, and Charles almost wished they would stop coming. Almost, because the comings and goings of others at least provided him with some kind of distraction from his own situation.

He sighed and looked away from the window, taking in his surroundings. They hadn't changed – still there was the extremely uncomfortable (he knew, he had been in it for weeks) traction bed and the empty chair. He had no visitors – he had not let anyone visit him since he had first woken up in the unfamiliar place.

Moira had tried in the beginning, but after a few days of being turned away had stopped bothering him for the time being. Hank still tried, and was sometimes accompanied by one of the younger mutants.

It wasn't that Charles was angry with them, or upset at them. He just wanted to be alone. The indignity of being confined to either the traction bed or the wheel chair, the inability to even relieve himself…he would spare them the sight of their former leader as a literal cripple forever if he could.

He couldn't. The doctors had done all they could, there was no fixing his particular problem, and he was soon to be released and sent home. Home, to where Hank, Alex, Sean and Moira were all waiting.

He sighed once more, returning his gaze to the window. The hospital parking lot was at a rare moment of inactivity – all the people were inside and the cars were still. Charles closed his eyes, a hand drifting towards his temple. He would reach out with his powers and check if any of his friends were here…

He stopped himself. No, he would simply watch. And wait. There was no need for his powers anymore…

He was jolted out of his thoughts as the door swung open. His eyes opened to see an orderly waiting with a smile.

"Let's get you back into bed Mr. Xavier." She said brightly, walking towards him. As her arms settled around his waist to lift him out of his chair, he closed his eyes. He could at least save himself the shame by pretending it wasn't happening. Because it wasn't. He was back in the mansion during the period they had had to train, playing chess with Erik and beating him soundly as always. Everything was fine. Everything was fine…

He shook his head, unable to continue the fantasy.

Nothing was fine.