Erik hadn't been in a hospital in years. Everything was metal. It smelled weird. The air had a sort of thickness to it, and he couldn't tell whether that came from the chemicals and equipment or the sorrow and fear that filled every room. People were busy – no one had time to tell him where to go, so after signing in, he walked around in a haze, silently repeating to himself, Room 347. Room 347. Room 347, until he found the correct room. He knocked quietly with his free hand, slipping his other hand behind his back so that the roses could be a surprise.

Hank opened the door. There were dark circles under his eyes, and his hair was sticking up in several places. When he saw Erik, he pursed his lips. Stepping quietly out of the doorway and pulling it closed behind him, he stared at Erik. "What are you doing here?"

"What?" Erik said, crestfallen. "I'm here to see Charles. I heard they started accepting visitors, and – "

"Heard? You've been watching us, haven't you?"

"What? I – I just wanted to come see him – I don't understand – "

"What exactly don't you understand, Erik?" Hank spat. "You don't understand that you almost killed hundreds of innocent people? Or you don't care that you almost killed all of us? You don't care that you betrayed us. Or maybe you don't care that you paralyzed Charles?" Hank watched as Erik's face fell, his eyes widening and his breath quickening. "You didn't know?" He shook his head. His normally warm and gentle face was filled with rage and hurt. "How could you? Just…how could you?"

The flowers tumbled from Erik's hand. He bent to pick them up, but his fingers were shaking too much. He looked at Hank, and then at the door.

"Go in if you want. I can't stop you. But – Erik? What you see in there? It's your fault. It's all your goddamn fault."

Erik pushed the door open, stepping inside the room. It swung shut, but not before Hank could throw the crushed and dirty flowers in behind him. They landed on the floor. Erik didn't move to pick them up.

The room was bleak – the walls a dismal shade of gray-blue, the floor speckled tile, with one window that showed nothing but a littered highway with barely any cars. The bed was in the center of the room, positioned so that the pale, skinny person on it was sitting upright. His hair was matted, his eyes haunted. Hundreds of tubes and wires crisscrossed around him, spreading from his arms like splinters in a cracked pane of glass.

"Charles?"

Charles turned his head slowly and looked at Erik, the corners of his mouth pressing down and his eyes growing hard. "What are you doing here?"

"I – "

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"I just thought that – "

Charles' eyes fell on the flowers. Erik desperately tried to step in front of them, to hide them. "You just thought that what, Erik?" Charles hissed. "That you could bring flowers and make it all better? That we could kiss and makeup? Is that what you thought?"

"No! I didn't know – I never knew – "

"You bastard! You took my life away, you son of a bitch. You took everything."

Erik couldn't breathe. The walls were closing in on him – he couldn't see straight – suddenly all the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. "No. No, it was never supposed to be like this. It was…it was an accident. I never wanted this, Charles."

Charles laughed, a bone-chilling spit of laughter full of resentment and pain. "I guess we don't always get what we want, then."

"Charles," Erik croaked. "Please. I love you. I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I love you. More than I've ever loved anyone – please, Charles!" He was growing hysterical. He fell to his knees, his eyes swimming with tears for the first time since he was a child.

Charles used his shaking hands to readjust himself in his bed, shifting his useless legs. "Erik. I'm going to say this once." He took a deep breath and, narrowing his eyes, looked right into Erik's eyes. "Go away, Erik. I never want to see you again."

Erik's fingers curled into fists, his jaw clenching and unclenching. He opened his mouth to speak, but then closed it as his eyes finally overflowed. He swallowed. "As you wish," he whispered. And then he was gone.