Title: By My Side (2/?)

Pairing: Erik/Charles

Rating: PG13 – R (maybe higher later on)

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Angst

Warnings: Some language, Injured Charles. *maybe* Slash at some point, but not sure yet.

Standard Disclaimer: I own nothing connected with X Men other than a deep affection for the movie and characters.

Setting/Timeline: Three weeks after the events of Cuba.

Thank you to Snoopy and Lucas for story help!

Summary: Erik returns for Charles.

"I want you by my side." (Erik to Charles, on the beach)

Part Two

He was dizzy. Yes, dizzy. That was the word for how he was feeling. Confused, and dizzy. He felt like he could stop the dizziness if he could just concentrate for a moment, but those damned voices weren't leaving him alone.

Voices drifting in and out of his hearing…or was he doing the one drifting? Hard to tell, actually. And why did the voices keep changing languages? He had studied Genetics, not Modern Languages, and right now, he really wished he had paid more attention to a few undergraduate classes.

Ah, well.

The voices had stooped, thankfully, and so had the hands that were touching him. Charles hated being touched. His childhood had taught him that more often than not, a slap could be behind a hand. But now the touches were apparently over with, and he was able to rest quietly.

Until those damned birds woke him up.

Blue eyes flew open, and for a moment, Charles was absolutely still, his mind automatically trying to reach out and set the reality around him. Raven. Other mutants. Cuba. Erik… Being shot.

Without even fully realizing it, one of Charles fists' punched his thigh. Nothing; no sensation at all. He struggled to lift his head, and deliberately hit himself again, this time watching his fist connect with his leg to be certain. It had become his quickest and best way to determine if he was just dreaming, or if he was really….

Yes. Definitely no sensation.

His head fell back on the bed, and Charles tried to take a deep breath, to reorient himself. Alright, yes. Reality beckoned. But two stray thoughts crossed his mind; he hadn't been able to lift his head that high before because of the traction, and there certainly had not been any bird sounds in his stale Florida hospital room.

It was a bit of a struggle at first, but he managed to lift his head and upper back a little, propping up on his elbows, enough so he could see around the room. Even while in traction, he had started working out with hand weights, knowing that any physical strength he had now would rely on his arms. Now he looked around the room he found himself in, and had to blink a little.

It was large, elegant in the furnishings. And to his astonishment, apparently the house the bedroom was located within was on a beach, because out huge windows and open patio doors, he could see the ocean waves, and hear the seabirds as they searched for their next meal. In fact, it had been their screeching that had awoken him, and for one moment he really wished for Erik's powers to be able to close the stupid patio doors, shut out the light and noise, and go back to his nap.

Erik…

He flopped back on the bed, unable to support himself any longer. Images raced thought his mind, sorting and organizing. Cuba, yes. Erik…and Raven….leaving. Then Erik coming back.

Bloody Hell, what was going on?

A new sound caught his attention, and he turned to see Erik standing in the doorway of the bedroom. Their eyes met for a long moment, and then Charles frowned. "I can't hear you," he said softly, confusion etched on his face. Erik wasn't wearing that blasted helmet; shouldn't Charles be able to read him?

"No," Erik agreed, sounding almost regretful. "You can't." He came forward and quietly sat on a chair beside the bed. Charles pushed himself up again, shaking his head a bit to try again, but still, there was absolutely nothing coming from his friend's mind. Erik was completely closed to him.

"Alright," Charles said slowly, trying to think. "I just have to ask; did you have a metal plate put in your head?"

Erik's eyebrows nearly disappeared into his hairline and he paused in pouring a glass of water from a pitcher on a nightstand. "What?" he said, clearly taken aback. "A metal plate? Charles, really, I know you have an incredible imagination, but is that the first thing you think of?"

"But I can't read you," Charles puzzled. He frowned, realization slowly dawning. "In fact, I can't hear anyone." True, he had always assumed that he had some sort of distance limit, but he had never reached it before, not even when he was cloistered at the mansion studying, all the staff was gone, and Raven was partying with her fake I.D. 40 miles away.

"Ah, yes." Erik held the glass to Charles's lips, and it was a measure of how bemused the younger man was that he accepted the sip of water without question. But he was still searching for an answer from Erik.

Erik put the glass down, and then carefully reached out a hand, and Charles watched warily, but allowing the movement, until Erik touched something around Charles' neck. "Another gift from the Soviets," Erik murmured.

Charles balanced himself awkwardly on one arm while he reached up to his neck. His fingers encountered a thin necklace of metal, and crossing his eyes, and frowning, he was just able to see it. It wasn't noticeable, but he could guess its purpose. No doubt made out of the same metal as the helmet, Charles mussed in an analytical part of his mind. Amazingly, it somehow blocked his powers. "I believe I am really starting to dislike Shaw's friends in the Kremlin," he said aloud.

Erik smiled, and it touched his eyes. "Hopefully, we don't need to deal with them again." He put a pillow behind Charles' back, and reluctantly the professor accepted its support, his arms starting to tire and his head aching.

"Where are we?" he questioned.

"One of Shaw's hideouts." At Charles' frown, Erik spread his hands. "As much as I hate to admit it, the man did have excellent taste in many things, including secluded hideouts."

Charles looked out the window for a moment, then back. "And why are we here?"

"Can't I help a friend?"

"Help me how?" Charles was wary, rather off-center with not being able to read any thoughts. He was also feeing disorientated in the new location and not thinking his best.

Erik snorted a little. "That should be obvious," he said. He leaned forward a bit. "Charles, if the Humans had decided to lock you away, to hurt you, would have been able to stop them? Would your powers have been able to convince everyone otherwise?"

"I don't know." Blue eyes met grey-green steadily. "But I would have been willing to try."

Erik shook his head. "I am not willing to gamble with your life," he murmured. "You are in no shape to fight the Humans."

"I fail to see how that is your responsibility." Tight words, just barely forced out. Charles knew he would never forget Erik deflecting the bullets, Moira's horror when she realized what had happened. It was an accident, he truly didn't blame either of them, but still, he could not forget. It was a world of If's; If Erik hadn't turned the missiles back to the ships; if Moria hadn't fired the gun to distract him…

"I make it my responsibility," Erik answered.

"Hank and the boys are my responsibility," Charles retorted. "With me gone, aren't they in more danger?" He knew he would give himself up to protect them.

"They are safe, "Erik said. "Emma warned them, and they are in hiding." He considered for a moment. "And as for Moria, she is Human, and we can let the Humans deal with her as they may. She is on their side, Charles, and they know it. They won't hurt her."

Charles sagged back again the pillows heavily. "Then summon your…your transporter, or whatever he is, and send me to Hank." The last thing he wanted was to be was a burden, but he knew he needed Hank and the boys for now. And perhaps they still needed him. Perhaps. "I thank you for rescuing me, even though it may not have been necessary."

Erik snorted. "It was completely necessary," he answered. He stood up and walked over the doors, pulling the drapes to give some shade from the gathering sun. "I hope you like it here. As I said, Shaw did have good taste."

"Erik, what do you mean?" Charles said tiredly. He had never realized how exhausting it was to have a conversation with someone who was being evasive. He was accustomed to just going into their minds and finding the answers. The thought that he had been rather spoiled, and lazy, when it came to dealing with people crossed his mind. True, he hadn't read Erik since that first night, and perhaps that had been a mistake, but he simply could not force his friend to do something or intrude on his privacy that way.

"The specialists I consulted with all agreed that this would be a good place for you to recover," Erik continued. He finished his fussing with the drapes and returned to the bed. "They left quite a bit of reading material and detailed instructions," he added, gesturing the nightstand. "I've managed to work my way through most of it. You have some catching up to do on rehabilitation."

Charles raised one eyebrow in confusion. "Rehabilitation? As in…mine?" At Erik's nod, he found himself flushing. "You have never impressed me as a nurse, my friend," he murmured. "I think Hank…"

"Would have no idea what to do, as brilliant as he is. And I would not leave a goldfish with Sean or Alex." Erik smiled wryly. "It will not be easy, but I seem to recall someone being a rather enthusiastic coach during some earlier training. I suspect you can take what you relished dishing out to the children. And if it makes you feel better, look at it this way: if you insist on us fighting, I want a healthy opponent."

Charles was getting dizzy and tired, and had to close his eyes for a moment. "Erik…" he trailed off, not sure what to say.

"You need to heal, and this is the best place. Just trust me, Charles."

Blue eyes flew open. "Then take off the damn…chain…and trust me," Charles spat, one hand going to his neck.

To his surprised, Erik nodded, and sat back in the chair. "You can ascertain that I what I told you about the boys and Moria is true, and after that, no more." Erik thought for a moment. "And no cheating at chess."

"I do not cheat," Charles protested automatically. His eyes narrowed in thought. "Raven?" he asked quietly. Erik nodded.

"You cannot contact her, but yes, assure yourself that she is well. And you need to promise me, Charles, that you won't influence anyone while we are here. I know this is going against your nature, but I offer you a truce; please, trust me on this."

"We need to talk, Erik."

"We do," the older man agreed. "We need to talk about a great many things, Charles, and this is the best place to do that. And you need to recover, and pushing your powers will not help right now."

Charles bit his lip, and then nodded. Erik nodded in return, and shifted his hand slightly. Charles felt a gentle tugging around his neck, and then the necklace slipped off and floated to Erik's hand. He inclined in head, waiting, and Charles raised a hand to his temple, concentrating.

"We are isolated, aren't we?" he murmured a moment later, sifting through what he could of Erik's thoughts.

"Better to concentrate," Erik smiled a little. "You don't need any distractions."

Charles sighed, gesturing to the necklace. "Thank you," he said softly. Erik inclined his head.

"It would have only been able to block you a little bit longer anyway."

"What?" Charles pushed himself back up on his elbows in record speed. "Its power is only temporary?"

"So says Emma," Erik grinned. "I had no idea if it would work at all against you, seeing as how you are so much more powerful, but I figured it was worth a try since you would be off-guard."

Charles sputtered in indignation, his eyes closing again as he collapsed back down, exhausted. "Why you….arrogant, boastful—"

"I'm wounded," Erik protested, holding up a hand to his chest.

"—cheating, deceitful—"

"Are you going to work your way through the entire English alphabet?" Erik asked warily.

"—egoistical—"

"You are, aren't you?" The older man sighed, but sat back to take the verbal lashing. He rather doubted that Charles would be able to stay awake much longer anyway.

A minute later there was a pause in the litany. "And….and…Zebra!" Charles muttered triumphantly. His mission completed, he fell asleep.

TBC…..

Author's Note: I have enjoyed a number of fanfic stories where some sort of collar or necklace is used to suppress Charles' powers. Being new to the fandom, I don't know if this is cannon or something developed by a brilliant writer. If it is from FF, I humbly beg belated permission to use the idea.