Pain is something Charles Xavier is well accustomed to. For as long as he can remember, he's been hearing the thoughts of others and feeling their pain. However, he'd never felt pain quite like this before. Metal ripping through bone and brain tissue like a knife slicing through butter, and he'd felt every excruciating second of it. The telepath wondered how he was even still standing. More distantly, Charles wondered if Erik was aware that he was feeling Shaw's murder.

When it was over, his head was pounding and his legs felt weak, but he pushed those thoughts away and locked them up tight. They weren't important right now, Erik was. So Charles and Moira exited what was left of the jet to see Erik lifting Shaw from the remains of the submarine and floating out after him. He was going on about the humans turning against them and he was right, the missiles were being redirected toward the beach. But Charles didn't believe they deserved to die. He tried to convey as much to Erik and he'd almost convinced him before those damn words passed his lips. "They're just following orders." Erik's gaze hardened and he'd let the missiles fly.

It was a stupid thing to say, and he wouldn't have done it had the pounding in the back of his mind not been so loud. But it was done and those men were going to die if he didn't do something. The helmet. If he could get the damned helmet off of Erik, he could fix this. So he went in for a tackle, wrapping his arms around the other man's waist and bringing him to the sand. Erik fought to keep control of the missiles while Charles fought to reach the helmet.

The telepath was failing. His limbs still felt too much like a mixture of gelatin and lead and the pounding in his head kept getting louder every second. On top of that, he couldn't help but think back to the much different kind of rolling around they'd done last night on the sheets of Charles' bed. Erik rose from the sand, ready to drive the missiles home and Charles just laid there for a moment. He felt like he could have lain there forever, but he couldn't do that, not to the people on those ships and most definitely not to Erik. No, he had to keep fighting, for his friend if for nothing else.

With much effort, Charles struggled to push himself from the sand and go to Erik. A constant stream of fightforhimCharlesErikneedsyoufightforhim. About halfway off the ground, his mind vaguely registered a loud popping sound, like gunfire, but that couldn't possibly be right. Why would someone on the beach be shooting at one of their own?

For Charles, everything stopped when the bullet hit his back. Again, it was pain. Metal tearing through bone and flesh, but this pain was his own, not someone else's. It felt like it, though. In that moment, Charles felt like he was looking in on someone else's pain like he had been doing his entire life. Never before had he experienced first hand pain this intense. Even as a scream passed his lips, it sounded like it had come from someone else. It wasn't until his body came crashing down on the sand like waves of pain and anguish did he fully accept that he'd been shot.

}!{

Erik felt like that moment was his entire life. Nothing before that instant would register in his mind, just bullet and flesh and scream; there was no past, just a painful and frightening present. Nothing after that existed either, because Erik couldn't possibly live in the world if Charles wasn't there and he had no notion of where the metal projectile had struck the telepath; the future was unthinkable, so again he was back to the stark and horrific present.

By the time Erik turned around, Charles was lying on his front in the sand with his hand pressed to his lower back and his face twisted in pain. The metal bender rushed to him and pulled the telepath into his lap. He wanted to do nothing more than pull the foreign object from Charles' back, but he knew enough about bullet wounds to know that he had to leave it in, no matter how much he wanted it out. Prying his focus from the metal, he turned it to Charles' face. The pain he saw there was so clear for everyone to see, and that might have been what frightened Erik the most. Charles' was always the first person to hide his true feelings for the benefit of others. He'd seen the telepath hide his pain to keep the children from worrying. But this? Everything he was feeling was right there for all to see.

Brushing some of the sand off Charles' face, he tried to get his attention.

"Charles? Charles, I need you to open your eyes and look at me. Can you do that?" To everyone else his voice sounded steady, but he could hear the difference from his normal tone – the underlying touch that belonged to the edge of panic.

Sluggishly, Charles opened his eyes. They were distant and teary and oh so blue that Erik felt the need to catch his breath.

"Can you hear me Charles?" Erik asked, grey eyes locked on blue.

One of the telepath's hands went to one of Erik's arms and gripped it tightly. The other, he raised to the metal bender's face where it was met with the cold resistance of the helmet. In reality, there's no way it could have been cold, seeing as they were on a Cuban beach in the middle of the day, but to Charles is was the coldest thing in the world. It was the shivering void that kept him from Erik's warm and loving mind. He'd never hated anything more.

His fingers left a smear of crimson on the shiny surface. "Your lips move," he said, "but you're mind is silent."

Charles let his hand drop back to his chest and Erik watched as a tear fell with it. He traced the drop from the corner of his eye until it was lost in the millions of grains of sand beneath them. Not wanting to release Charles, he used one hand to rip the helmet from his head.

All at once, his mind slammed into repeatedly with waves of emotion. It was a barrage of pain and sorrow and panic but also passion and love and Erik. Tears flooded his eyes and the air fled is lungs as the sensation overwhelmed him. He was left gasping.

"Charles," he breathed, "I need you to calm down. Calm your mind liebling, please." He hadn't meant to let the endearment slip, but he was glad he did. The turmoil in Charles' mind began to settle a bit at hearing the familiar term.

Erik had forgotten they weren't alone. Moira took a step closer to them and Erik reacted immediately, using his power to grab hold of the chain around her neck. It wasn't enough to do any harm, just enough to keep her in place.

"Stay back," he growled.

"Don't do anything stupid, Erik. We want to help Charles as much as you do. Just let us help." Raven spoke up, hesitantly coming closer to them.

Reluctantly, Erik released his hold on Moira's necklace. She didn't come any closer though. Raven, on the other hand, hurried over to them and knelt down at Charles' side. With a gentle blue touch, she brushed some of his curls off his forehead.

"We're going to get you help, but until that happens, I need you to stay still. Okay Charles?"

He nodded in response, but immediately regretted it. The world swam before him and pain radiated from the middle of his forehead. He slammed his eyes shut in an attempt to settle the turmoil in his stomach. A groan of pain escaped his lips.

Hank came over to join them as well. "What is it Charles?"

"M-my head," he gasped.

"Your head?" Hank looked as confused as Erik felt. The bullet had hit his back, why did his head hurt so much?

Charles lifted his hand to Erik's cheek, this time making contact with his smooth skin. Gently, he pushed some images into Erik's mind. A coin, Shaw's frozen form, Charles' own agonizing scream. He didn't lower his hand, but instead used it to wipe away the few tears escaping down Erik's cheeks.

"I am so sorry," he whispered, "had I known I would have done it quicker."

"I tried telling you, but…" Whatever he was going to say, he let it drop before beginning again. "It's done, just promise me one thing."

"Anything."

"Never put on that helmet again."

Too caught up in their own little moment, Erik didn't notice when one of Shaw's mutants stepped forward. It was the red one, Azazel, Erik thought. He wrapped his power around the closest piece of metal and prepared to strike if necessary.

"I can take you to hospital." He offered. "Ze telepath needs help."

Erik flexed his fingers. "And why should I trust you?"

"Your strength vith ze missiles. I vould not challenge." He said. "If I turned against you, I vould not live. Of zat I have no doubt."

Erik really didn't want to trust Charles' safety with someone who had spent the last few weeks trying to kill them.

Hank spoke up, like he could sense Erik's struggle. "I don't want to trust him either," he said, "but Charles needs to get to a hospital as soon as possible. Teleportation is the fastest way."

Erik hated when Hank made sense. He sighed and turned to Azazel. "Alright, you'll take Charles, Raven, and I first. Then you come back for the others."

Azazel nodded. "Vich hospital?"

"Any hospital in New York," Erik said. He looked down at Charles who was still lying in his lap. "I'm going to have to lift you. I'll try to be gentle, but it's probably going to hurt."

Charles' body tensed, prepared for the pain. "Do it."

Carefully, Erik readjusted Charles so he could lift him better, his face falling slightly with every pained gasp that escaped Charles' lips. With one arm positioned behind his knees and the other looped around his back, Erik stood.

Immediately, Erik knew something was wrong. Charles gripped the front of his flight suit, eyes wide with fear, panic coming off of him in waves.

"What is it Charles?" Erik asked.

"My legs. I-I can't feel my legs. I can't feel my legs. Erik, I can't feel them!" His breathing was becoming labored as he fought his terror. Erik took a deep breath and tried to push the feeling of calm at the shorter man. Charles' breaths began to even out again.

"Charles, I know you're scared," he said, "but we're taking you to a hospital now. They'll be able to help you."

Charles nodded, but the movement seemed distant. Erik wondered if Charles was experiencing some form of shock. The metal bender turned to Azazel and gave him a nod. Since Erik was holding Charles, the red mutant wrapped one hand around his bicep and held Raven's hand with other. Then, in a cloud of sulfur, they were gone.