A/N: This story and all my other stories can also be found at yourfanfiction . com (no spaces, same author name - bloodsoakedleather) so in the event that this site decides to delete me, you can still continue reading.

Erik was almost finished for the day. He was tired and irritable, still, and he wanted nothing more than to put the day behind him and relax in his suite with a large glass of scotch and porn on the TV. The idea of company didn't appeal to him, he would satisfy himself this evening. He took one final look at the document in front of him, added his signature to the bottom then leaned back in his chair and let out a long sigh, relieved to be done. After tucking the document inside a folder and slipping into his desk drawer, he turned off his computer and stood up.

He hadn't taken more than two or three steps when the phone rang, loud and shrill in the low buzz of the early evening. He groaned in frustration and glared at the offending object on his desk as he contemplated whether or not to ignore it. It continued to ring and after a moment he decided ignoring it wasn't an option. What if there was some kind of emergency that required his immediate attention? The downside of being the business owner, your free time is never really truly free.

"This had better be important." He snapped after a moment as he held the phone to his ear.

"It is." Hank's voice replied. "You need to come to the infirmary ASAP."

"Why? What's happened?"

He heard Hank growl before he gave his answer.

"Sebastian fucking Shaw happened!"

He moved quickly through the building, navigating the maze of corridors with ease, glad the traffic was light this evening. The infirmary was an area Erik rarely visited but the mention of Shaw's name had given him a distinctively uneasy feeling that though he was unwilling to analyse too closely, he was unable to deny.

"Where is he?" He demanded loudly, bursting through the door.

Hank was busy examining the contents of a medicine cabinet, and he grabbed a tube of something quickly before turning round and giving Erik a critical glare. Erik ignored the look for now.

"Over here." Hank said, leading him towards a small private cubicle at the far end of the room. He pulled back the curtain and stepped inside, gesturing for the other man to come closer. Charles was laying face down on the bed, naked, save for a thin sheet that covered him from the waist down, and unconscious. He was covered in cuts and scratches and bruises. Bile rose unbidden in Erik's throat but he swallowed it down. I had a couple of my guys on standby, just in case." He said, almost accusingly. "He was barely conscious when we found him, but he woke up screaming the second I touched him. I had to sedate him just to get him here."

"What's wrong with him?" Erik's voice betrayed nothing more than a professional concern. "Other than the obvious."

"It'd probably be easier to tell you what's not wrong with him." Hank sighed. "Besides the obvious surface abrasions…" Gently he turned Charles' head slightly to the side so that Erik could see the curve of his neck. "He has a large cluster of bite marks on his neck and upper shoulder, some of which have broken the skin. The lining of his throat has some grazes and tears and there is bruising and swelling to the middle section of his pharynx and his epiglottis consistent with overly aggressive oral sex. He's suffering adductor strain probably as a result of having his legs forced apart and he was penetrated by something considerably larger than a penis, most likely a fist and judging by the extent of his injuries it wasn't done at all carefully. There's severe rectal trauma, recto sigmoid perforations, mucosal lacerations, you name it. Some of them serious enough to need stitches and I've given him antibiotics in case of infection." He was silent for a moment. "The guy tore him to pieces Erik. Jesus Christ! I swear, every time that man shows his face I end up with at least one kid in here that can't be fixed with a couple of paracetamol and a decent night's sleep. Why the Hell do you keep letting him come back? Why do you keep letting him do things like this to these poor kids?"

"Because he pays me well."

"He pays you well huh? Well I hope he paid you better than usual this time because this kid isn't going to be working for a long time."

Erik snorted.

"I assure you Hank, it was more than enough to compensate for the loss of earnings."

"Loss of…? I can't believe you." Hanks hissed, shaking his head in disbelief. "This kid just got raped half to death and all you're worried about is money? You're disgusting, you know that right?"

Erik raised an eyebrow and fixed the doctor with an angry stare.

"You work in the sex trafficking business Hank." He snapped. "So please, spare me your moral indignation, it doesn't suit you."

Hank muttered something under his breath and turned his back, putting the tube he had retrieved from the cabinet earlier on the table beside Charles' bed.

"I don't know why I put up with you." He added.

"Really? I was under the impression it was because the real world considered you unfit to continue practising medicine and I'm the only one who would give you a job."

The doctor's shoulders tensed visibly, Erik's words had hit a nerve and he had no reasonable comeback.

"You're an asshole." He muttered irritably.

"We're all assholes. Just tell me how long we're looking at. When can I put him back to work?"

Another insult formed on Hank's tongue but he wisely bit it back.

"I'm not sure. It depends on how quickly he heals. About ten days or so before he'll be able to perform fellatio, maybe longer and at least double that for anal intercourse, unless someone else is on the receiving end of course. Cunnilingus and vaginal intercourse…" He shrugged his shoulders. "A couple of days but I'd recommend at least a week, just to let him regain his strength. If he's too weak it'll affect the rate his other injuries heal."

"Thank you Doctor. Your recommendation has been duly noted."

"Good. Right. Well… That's it. There's nothing else I can tell you so…"

"Are you throwing me out Doctor?"

"I'm saying there's no reason for you to hang around. And I still have antibiotic ointment I want to apply to the wounds, as an added precaution."

Erik didn't move. He stared at the doctor for a moment then he stared down at Charles. After several seconds he held out his hand, gesturing for the doctor to hand over the tube of ointment.

"I'll do it." He said, his gaze fixed upon the small broken body on the bed.

"Sorry?" Hank seemed surprised.

"I said, I'll do it." Erik repeated.

"I don't think…"

"Oh for God sake Hank, it's just ointment. I've applied ointment before, I think I'm up to the task."

"Yes but, this is a little more delicate than just carpet burns or…"

"Hank!" Erik growled and Hank gave up his protest.

"Fine." He said reluctantly, passing the tube to the other man and slapping it hard into the palm of his outstretched hand. "Just the places where the skin is broken. The bite marks on his shoulder and his…"

"Yes yes, I know where. Now why don't you go and get yourself something to eat, or a cup of coffee or something?"

In all honesty, he was not at all comfortable leaving Erik alone with Charles but as despicable as the man was, Hank didn't think he would do the boy any harm. He was a business man after all and it was in his best interests to make sure Charles healed quickly and got back to work. He grimaced slightly, then shook the thought from his mind and headed towards the door.

"The sedatives I gave him shouldn't wear off for another couple of hours." He said, stopping with his hand hovering above the door handle. "But I'll be back in around thirty minutes anyway." And then he left.

Alone now, Erik took his time to really examine the boy on the bed. Even like this Charles was still breathtakingly beautiful, still so very tempting. Even so, the marks that covered the fragile body bothered him deeply. They should be his marks, he thought, not Shaw's. It should have been his fingers digging into the soft flesh, his teeth nipping at the delicate skin, his cock tearing him open. Charles's screams should have been for him, they should have been screams of pleasure mixed with pain, not pain alone. His lips curled into a snarl as he thought about Shaw. Oh how he would love to see the man on his knees, naked and bloody and begging for mercy as Charles must surely have done. How he would love take Charles hard and fast in front of him, to have him writhing and bucking and crying out in ecstasy as Erik claimed him, marked him as his property, making it clear that Charles belonged to him and that Shaw would never get to touch him again.

He grunted softly and shook the thoughts from his head. He would have Charles soon enough. Soon Charles would carry Erik's mark and everyone would know who he belonged to. Until then though, Charles needed to heal and Erik was going to see to it that he did.

He washed and dried his hands at a nearby sink and put on a pair of surgical gloves then picked up the tube and flipped open the lid, squeezing a generous amount of the ointment to his fingers and gently rubbing it into the boys shoulder where the bite marks were. When he was done with that he removed his gloves, washed his hands again and put on a fresh pair, then carefully slid the sheet that covered Charles' lower body down to the middle of his thighs. He winced at the sight, and swallowed another wave of bile before squeezing out more of the ointment, and with more tenderness and care than most would have thought him capable of, set about applying it to Charles more severe wounds.

When he'd finished he carefully covered his patient with the sheet again, dropped the soiled gloves into the bin and washed his hands for a third time before pulling up a chair and sitting down beside the bed to wait for Hank.

A/N: Coming up, Charles finally feels something good.

Reviews appreciated