They were recovering…slowly, in their own ways. In which Erik decides to stay after the incident.
Yes, it's been a while since college started, but I'm back baby!
Also I had a major spine surgery for kyphosis, 2 rods and 26 screws, so I'm basing a lot of the hospital experience on how mine went. Feel free to talk to me about that or anything, I love making friends! :D
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He looked peaceful. But small.
Charles was lying in a hospital bed, the crisp white sheets only emphasizing how pale his face was.
Erik sat in a stiff, plastic chair beside Charles' bed. They were all taking shifts watching the telepath. It had been two days since Charles's surgery, and with the combination of a swollen spinal cord and intense painkillers, he hadn't been lucid in three days.
Not that Erik minded.
He didn't know what to say. No one did. Charles had spoken about not being able to feel his legs, but by the time he had been rushed to the hospital, he was already suffering from shock.
"I can't feel my legs," Charles sputtered as he was carted into the E.R., slowly but with urgency. Any jostling from the cart could cause further damage.
"Sir, you're going into shock and your spinal cord has been damaged. This is normal. We need you to just remain calm," the EMT recited as if it was second nature.
The telepath had tears streaming down his face, and Erik feared that soon he would look the same.
"Erik, please, please, I can't feel my legs," Charles groaned. There was a hysteric trace in his voice that Erik had never heard before. "Where is Raven?! I need Raven. Erik, please get her! Please, where is she?"
"I'm here, Charles," Raven said, grabbing his hand. Her voice was raspy from screaming on the beach. "Charles, it's gonna be okay. They're gonna take you back and fix you. I'll be here when you get back. I promise. No more running."
His face went pale, and his breathing shallowed as the EMT injected him with a clear liquid that looked like liquescent bliss. He was rushed away, which was the last Erik saw of the telepath.
Now Charles was lying in front of him, no better off than he had been on the beach three days ago.
Erik didn't know what to say when he woke up. The doctor had said that recovery was unlikely. Erik didn't know how to tell Charles. No one did. Maybe Hank, because he understood the full extent of Charles's injuries, but Erik was afraid that Hank's knowledge of the dire situation might only make it worse.
Mysti…Raven had taken it upon herself to go back to Xavier Manor. Maybe it was her way of dealing, or avoiding Erik, or both. Either way, she hadn't come back to the hospital for 2 days, and her version of silent treatment was working.
The rest of the children were back at the mansion too, with the exception of Hank, who had been translating the doctor for Erik and Raven. He had ordered that the rest of the children start to make the home more accessible—the mansion was ancient with wooden beams and high arches, not made for a wheelchair. And the doctor had made it clear that there likely would be no Charles without a wheelchair.
Erik shifted in his chair, listening to the plastic squeak. Just as he got settled, a nurse came in. Her name tag said "Carla" with a smiley face. She was pretty—probably had kids and was exhausted, but she still managed to smile. She was carrying a cup of coffee, and Erik couldn't help but notice her hands were red and there was a hint of bruising on her forearm.
"You haven't left, figured you could use some. I stole it from the nurses' lounge, so don't tell."
"Thank you," Erik said, grasping the cup as if it were a life line. "Do you have any idea of when he'll be up?"
"Unfortunately not, dear. These things take time. Sleep is some of the best medicine." She pressed the nurse call button, then took to Charles's IV bag, which was near empty. "He goes through this stuff pretty quickly."
Another nurse walked in. "Needs to be flipped?"
Erik stood up, causing the two nurses to look at him. "Do—ah, do you need help?"
"We're alright," Carla said. "He doesn't weigh much. We have to do this every few hours to prevent bedsores. Before he's discharged we'll teach you how." Erik nodded, sitting back down.
The two women grasped the bedsheet underneath Charles with surprising strength, and slowly turned him onto his side. He looked even tinier on his side. Without warning Carla gasped in a sharp inhale, causing Erik to shoot from his seat again. The other nurse looked at her questioningly.
"I'm alright Maggie, just a little sore. The kids are driving me crazy; they're in their wrestling phase. Thanks dear." The other nurse left the room, leaving just Erik and Carla, with a limp Charles who was breathing softly.
"Your husband?" Erik asked, anger lancing his voice. He was too tired to remain kind.
"No, not at all," Carla reassured, but she didn't seem certain. She hesitated. "This may be overstepping, but can I ask you a question?"
Erik nodded.
"Is your friend, uh, special?"
Erik froze. There was only one thing she could be referring to, and her insinuation made his skin crawl and his teeth grit. He raised his shirt sleeve slightly, revealing his Auschwitz tattoo. "I don't see how that matters. I have no idea, but I've learned not to discriminate on who someone loves, as clearly you haven't either," his eyes flitting to her own bruised arm.
Carla took a step back, her eyebrows raised in shock. "No, no, that's not what I meant at all! I just mean…when I lifted him, I heard him. In my head. He was in pain. It was nothing like I've felt before."
Erik remained quiet for a moment. "What do you know of it?"
Clara looked at the door, then back at Erik. "My son. He's also…special. He's twelve. And his strength is unbelievable. He didn't mean to hurt me. He was excited about doing well on a test and grabbed me. We have a friend who is also special. I don't know, I'm probably just sleep deprived…."
"No," Erik muttered. "We are. He has a habit of peeking in people's heads. But not a word."
"Of course," Clara said. A long silence filled the air as Carla continued around the room, fiddling with this and that. After the awkward misinterpretation and even worse confession, Erik decided to break the silence.
"Can you give him more pain medicine?" Erik asked. "If you heard him, he might be coming out soon. I don't want…"
"Him to be in pain?" Carla finished with a knowing smile, which caused Erik to nod. He didn't have the heart to tell her that he didn't want Charles to wake up for a while, because he didn't know what he was going to say. He didn't even know if he would still be welcome. "Don't worry, we're taking good care of him. I'll be back in a few hours if you need anything. Try to grab some sleep."
Erik sat down, finishing his coffee. He needed the caffeine. His phone dinged.
Be there in an hour. Bringing clothes for you, Hank, and Charles. –R
Erik looked at Charles, then back at his phone. He had been up for over 45 hours. Maybe a good nap would help, and Raven would be back in an hour anyways…just close his eyes for a second…
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He woke up to Raven throwing a bag of clothes down. Hank was in the room, reviewing the chart stuck to Charles's bed. He had reverted to his human form, his glasses slipping down his nose. Raven, who had assumed her typical blonde facade, walked over to him holding a fresh shirt, a stick of deodorant, and a cup of burnt coffee from the cafeteria. Erik sat up, not eager to be seen sleeping. The others imagined him with a steely, robotic exterior, no weaknesses, and he would like to keep it that way.
Hank set the chart down, and plopped into one of the two extra chairs Carla had brought, Raven in the other. In a moment of fallen defenses, she placed her head on Hank's shoulder. Despite her abilities, her eyes remained red and swollen. But above all, they were cold. She hadn't made eye contact with Erik since she returned, and he couldn't blame her. Charles's words were still swirling around in his head.
Moira didn't do this Erik. You did.
The bullet he had pulled from Charles's lower back still remained in his pocket—a heap of crushed metal, coated in blood and sand. Like Charles's limp body…
He was shaken from his reverie by a piercing pain in his head. Between squinted eyes and gritted teeth, he looked at Hank and Raven, who were apparently experiencing the same thing.
Then he looked at Charles.
Charles's face was contorted into a pained grimace. His hands rushed up to his head, and it looked like he was attempting to curl up, but his legs remained motionless.
Help help help pain pain sO MANY VOICES MAKE IT STOP
Erik rushed to his side, trying to gently jostle the man awake. He couldn't get very far before Raven was there also.
"Get your fucking hands off of him!" She snarled. She slapped his hands away, and grabbed both of his shoulders gently. "Charles, wake up! It's okay, I'm here. Charles?"
Hank, who for a moment looked like a deer in headlights, pressed the nurse call button with incredible urgency.
Charles was contorting more, and the pain in Erik's head only increased to a shriek. Raven was beginning to panic, and it was clear that she had forgotten the state Charles was in as she began to shake him harder. His IV was roughly dislodged from his arm, and was hanging off the bed.
Carla ran into the room. With surprising strength, she pinned Charles's top half down with one arm, and grabbed the IV. Raven stepped out of the way as Carla re-inserted the IV, taking good care to add extra tape.
However, it seemed that she wasn't immune to Charles's mental attack.
She lurched forward, gripping the edges of the bed.
"Make it stop!" she cried, trying desperately to stand up. "There's….sedative…" Her hand rose to gesture to a drawer near the IV stand.
Hank rushed over, throwing the drawer open. He was more immune to Charles's telepathy than the others—being with him during Cerebro sessions had made him rather used to being an accidental target. He still felt it, just not to the extent that the others did. He rustled around the drawer, rapidly reading each syringe until he came across a chemical he was semi familiar with. He quickly removed the needle cap, and plunged the needle into Charles's numb thigh.
The mental attack ceased, and Carla straightened back up, panting.
But she wasn't the only one sitting up.
Charles grasped her hand.
"Your son….incredible. I mean simply brute power. I would love to work with him."
Erik, who was still slightly out of breath, shook his head. Charles, ever the optimist, only wanting to help…
Charles, who was smiling in amazement, slowly felt his face fall.
His legs.
"Wait, where…Raven?"
Raven all but ran towards his bed, squeezing his shoulders painfully tight. "Oh Charles, I'm so glad…" Her voice constricted as she began to tear up.
Charles pushed her away. "Raven, why are we here?" His throat tightened, and he tried to blink away the tears as memories came flooding in.
The beach. Shaw's memories suddenly becoming his own as a coin sliced through his head, covered in blood and regret.
Missiles in the air.
Indescribable pain as a bullet ripped through his spine, falling as fiery hot grains of sand hit his face.
Erik.
Charles turned towards Erik, who was looking at the ground with a steely, unflinching gaze. He then turned his glance towards Raven, whose red-rimmed eyes were beginning to brim with tears.
"Charles, they…we got you here as fast as we could. They did everything they could, I swear to you. It may not be permanent, there's tons of new experimental treatment with stem cells and bone marrow, electric therapy...I'm just so glad you're okay."
Charles remained silent, but his heart felt like it was beating out of his chest. There were so many things running through his head, and he could feel pity radiating off of everyone in the room. It was unbearable.
But amongst all the feelings circulating the room, the worst was the lack of feeling in his legs. He grasped his thigh. Nothing. He slowly moved his hand up his body, waiting for a tingle of any sort. Nothing. His hand reached his navel, and he held his breath waiting for any sensation.
He didn't get anything until his hand reached his mid-stomach. And he felt his heart sink, but the rapid beating hadn't stopped. He could feel blood rushing in his ears, and his vision began to tunnel. He tried steadying his breathing, which did little.
He cleared his throat, and spoke in a surprisingly calm voice. "Nurse, I seem to be experiencing heart palpitations."
"You're gonna be feeling sleepy pretty soon, Charles. It's just anxiety…this is all a lot to take in, but the sedative should be kicking in any second now. "
"Thank god," he murmured, refusing to look anywhere but the ceiling. He shut his eyes as his muscles seemed to relax. "Carla, if you could please show them out?"
"Charl-"
"Raven, please, just let me have this," Charles said, barely keeping the desperate tinge from his voice. His words were beginning to slur.
"Come on, you won't be any help to him like this," Carla said gently. "Let's let him sleep."
Erik begrudgingly left his chair, with Raven and Hank following. He threw one last glance at Charles, who was still staring at the ceiling as he nodded off. Hank had an arm around Raven, who had let tears freely flow now that Charles was out of sight.
They sat down in the lounge, along with expecting fathers, worried children, and weeping families.
Once they were settled, Raven turned her attention to Erik. "This is your fault," she snapped. "If you hadn't been so goddamned focused on your revenge, none of his would have happened!"
"You seemed eager enough to join me," Erik replied sternly. "If he hadn't gotten hurt, you would have come with me; don't lie to yourself. We want the same thing. People die fighting for what they believe in, Charles hardly paid the ultimate price." The words weren't entirely true. Erik knew that Charles would never be the same, and that he had paid more than any of them for a cause he didn't even believe in. But he wasn't wrong about Raven.
"Don't you dare," Raven sneered. "Don't you dare talk about sacrifice. Charles and I have hardly lived this glamorous life you imagine, and just because he isn't a bitter, unruly sceptic like you doesn't mean he doesn't care."
"Well he certainly cares about you. But if you really loved him, you wouldn't have been so keen to join me. You would abandon him just for a taste of freedom, to be free of his ridiculous principled standards."
Raven's face was enraged, and Erik noticed her fist was beginning to shimmer blue. He was so focused on the flash of blue scales that he didn't notice the metallic magazine stand headed straight for his face. Erik dodged just in time as the stand clattered harshly against the tile.
"Fuck off, Erik. If you're so concerned about this damned mission then why doN'T YOU JUST LEAVE?!" Raven screamed, ignoring the people that were beginning to stare.
"Raven, please," Hank begged, trying to bring her down to her seat. "This isn't the time."
"Then when is the time?" She asked angrily, whipping her head towards Hank. "This is the only time that Erik might feel bad enough to take a hint and fucking leave! He's been destroying Charles since day one, and that is the last straw. I won't let him ruin Charles!"
"Ruin Charles?" Erik scoffed. "Please."
"He felt everything Shaw felt," Raven cracked, as vicious tears began to stream down her cheek. "Every second, he was screaming, begging you to stop. That took everything from him. But you had to keep on that damn helmet, pushing him out like you always do! You disgust me. Just. Fucking Leave. "
"Fine then," Erik bit back. He stormed out, looking for the nearest exit. He knew that Raven got emotional when it came to Charles, but her words still stung. But even worse, they had some truth to them. Erik had dragged Charles into his rage-fueled murder mission, and now he had paid the price.
He strode through the automatic doors, sitting on the bench outside. The cool metal was soothing, but he could feel it rumble from his rage. A man standing a little further away was smoking. Erik approached him.
"Mind if I have one?" Erik asked. The man fulfilled his request, lighting the cigarette. Erik took a deep inhale, which caused him to spurt out a cough.
"Been a while?" The man asked humorously.
"Longer than you can image," Erik replied. He had smoked the occasional banned cigarette during his childhood with his friends. Of course, he hadn't enjoyed it, but Igor and the other boys had made it seem to cool that he was foolish not to try. Back then the smoke burned his eyes, but he felt triumphant and rebellious.
Now the smoke and ash simply reminded him of corpses in the oven, and he felt empty.
Erik gave the man a curt nod of thanks, and sat back down, nursing the cigarette.
He could take Raven's outbursts and cold stare. He could take Hank avoiding his glance.
The worst part of the encounter had been Charles. Similar to Raven, Charles had the tendency to wear his heart on his sleeve. Erik figured that with all the chaos going on in his head, Charles's couldn't help but let his emotions spill over onto his exterior. Today seemed to be the exception. He had expected anger, disbelief, grief, rage, panic, tears even. He had expected the telepath to lash out at Charles or to share his pain like Raven.
He hadn't expected Charles to remain silent and stoic, to completely shut down. That stung more than anything.
Erik took another drag of the cigarette, resisting the urge to cough. He held it in his lungs, allowing the nicotine to absorb into his raging bloodstream.
The road ahead was going to a long, arduous one. But unless Charles asked, he wasn't going to leave. Raven had gotten one thing right.
No more running.
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Thoughts! Comments, kudos? Don't worry, this series is going to have many parts with MUCH MORE hurt/comfort to come. Also I'm really hoping to dive into Raven's character a bit more—I know I made have portrayed her slightly erratic here, but her initial pain is understandable. Stay tuned for a rapid update! :D