Okay, so all moved it now! Still have plenty of organizing to do, but anyway...also, the internet is down at school and I'm at Starbucks. So again, updates as quick as I can but not as often as before school started...un;ess I only mentioned that on TDTO and I forgot to mention it all here and if so I'm sorry...

Anyway, here ya go! I hope you enjoy the chapter, and i can't wait to hear from ya'll. Thanks so much!

Chapter 10

"Erik?"

The voice was small and confused and barely audible, but it pulled Erik from his state of near-sleep just the same. He'd been sprawled on his stomach, but he flipped over quickly to meet bleary blue eyes in the lamp light.

All of the breath went out of him when he was sure he hadn't imagined it.

"Charles..."

His friend blinked at him slowly. He hadn't moved-only turned his head on the pillow to look at him, and now Charles frowned, trying to fight his way back to awareness.

"Erik...why are you in my bed?"

Erik chuckled softly and sat up, barely able to accomplish that due to dizziness from the sheer amount of relief. "Someone had to keep an eye on you." Charles looked pointedly at the chair by the bed and then back to Erik. "That thing gets old after a while."

Charles swallowed, and his voice was raspy when he spoke. Dry throat, no doubt. "How long...?"

"More than two months. We've been here almost six weeks."

"Here..." Charles gave the room a cursory glance, and his eyebrows went up. "Home. We're in New York..."

"Quite a place you've got here, too."

"Yes, well..." And then he moved. Erik had known he would eventually, but he wasn't ready for it. Erik quickly gripped his arm and tried to stop him, but he was too late.

"Charles-"

Out of habit Charles started to sit up, but of course it didn't work the way it used to. His leg muscles didn't cooperate to help him. His legs didn't move at all. He still could have made it up easily enough if he'd used his arms, but he didn't bother. He froze, halfway up and propped on his elbows, and watching his friend's face crumple broke Erik's heart.

Charles let himself drop back to the pillow with a small choked sound that wasn't quite a sob. "It wasn't a dream...none of it was..."

And now he wouldn't look at Erik anymore. He glared at the IV in his arm instead, at the metal stands by the bed and the tube from the catheter that Erik didn't even know if he could feel-anywhere else, really.

And Erik didn't know how to do anything about the catheter-they would have to have someone come to check on Charles anyway, now that he was awake, and they could take care of that-but because he didn't know what else to do he stood up and went around the bed to carefully pull the IV out and tape a bit of gauze over the spot.

"I'll get you some water..." he trailed. Charles only nodded.

Erik had forgotten to leave any cups in the connecting bathroom, and he had to go downstairs for the water. Thankfully it was the middle of the night and no one else was awake to notice. He didn't think Charles was ready to deal with anyone else just yet. Erik wasn't even sure Charles wanted to deal with him.

When he made it back to his friend's bedroom Charles had dragged himself up against the headboard and pillows, and his fingers dug into his legs through the covers. He hadn't been brave enough to throw the blanket aside yet. Erik swallowed and debated whether or not to go around and take the chair, but finally he just sat down on the other half of the bed again and handed Charles the glass.

It took a moment for Charles to realize he was even there, and another moment to reluctantly let go of his dead legs-to stop trying to make them feel something, Erik thought in despair-and take the water. He nodded silently in thanks and leaned back into the pillows he'd pulled behind him.

"How are your ribs?" Erik asked after a moment, because it was the first thing that came to mind. "They should be all right by now..."

Charles reached for his chest at that, rubbing at it with his free hand and wincing. "Aches a bit...not much. I would assume the bones are all but mended by now."

"Mostly, I guess. I don't remember exactly what they told us."

Charles shifted a bit and winced. "I did notice that it's the bruises, actually, that are lingering. It's-ah." His eyes clenched shut for a brief moment, and he stopped trying to move at all.

"They did say that a lot of the tissue damage went rather deep," Erik admitted grudgingly. "It may be a while before they're gone completely-longer before you're not sore anymore."

"Wonderful..."

Now Charles looked at him, finally, as if he'd thought of something, reaching behind him to set the half-empty glass of water on the bedside table. "Your hand..." He saw the cast now, and Erik held it up some and shrugged.

"Hours of reconstructive surgery and all I really got out of it was that they didn't have to take the damned thing off. Most of the nerves were too damaged to save. It'll look relatively normal, but I won't be able to really use it-can't feel much."

Charles seemed distressed at that, though the level of it may only have been to distract himself from his own problems. Erik would have understood if it was. "Erik, I'm so sorry..."

He only shrugged again and sat back against the headboard himself. He didn't know what else to do, but he didn't want to leave Charles alone. Sleep, at least, didn't seem to be crossing either of their minds despite the hour.

Then again, Charles had slept enough for a lifetime.

When Charles finally spoke again he sounded more than a little resigned. "Then...I suppose Shaw was right. There was nothing to be done, was there?" A hand pounded hopelessly on one of his legs again for emphasis, as if Erik wouldn't have known what he was talking about.

Erik let out a slow breath and finally shook his head a bit. "I...I lost track of how long you were in surgery." He didn't tell Charles they'd almost lost him...internal bleeding around the shattered spinal column...but the way his friend grimaced he figured he'd picked that up anyway. "There was nothing they could do; they tried..." He cut off before he was forced to by the lump in his throat.

"There's no hope, then," Charles whispered.

"Charles, there's always-"

"But not as far as the medical community at large is concerned," he interrupted.

Erik winced and shook his head again, though he didn't want to. He looked away, swallowing back the lump that was still there.

When he looked back again Charles's face was streaked with tears.

Realizing that Erik was looking at him again Charles tried furiously to wipe them away, but more replaced them faster than he could dry them up.

"Damnit...Charles..."

But he was sobbing now, and Erik was completely at a loss. They weren't trapped in that damned plastic room anymore, and knowing how to help Charles, how to comfort him...was suddenly harder without the pressing circumstances. He sat frozen for a long moment, until finally he abandoned embarrassment, slid closer and slipped an arm around his friend's thin shoulders-thin, now, from two months of being nourished by only an IV tube.

He was pale and thin, and Erik knew that under the pajamas many of the deeper bruises that Charles had noticed were lingering were still quite visible-more yellow and purple now than black and blue, but still there just a same. He still looked like hell.

"Come here."

Erik gently pulled Charles to him, wrapped his arms around him and nestled his friend's head under his chin, and just held him. Let him cry. Before any of this had happened it would have been a highly unlikely gesture, but Erik didn't care anymore. Charles needed him, and he'd promised himself that he would be here. Whatever being here for him entailed, so be it.

"Charles? Charles."

There was barely restrained urgency in the voice, and Charles felt it seeping into the edges of his mind as well.

It was Erik, and Erik wanted him awake NOW.

"What is it?" Charles groaned, reluctant to open his eyes. When he did he found his friend leaning over him, hands on his shoulders and something akin to panic on his face that he quickly covered.

Erik didn't answer as first. He sat back, mouth open a little, and finally he sighed. "I was afraid you'd left again."

Suddenly Charles was hit with all of the worry Erik had harbored for him in the long weeks he had been dead to the world, and it was so powerful he was barely able to stifle a gasp. And it wasn't only Erik. Through his friend's memories he saw how concerned the others had been; how stressful the last two months or so had been for them.

Charles blinked back tears and pulled in a breath. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize..."

Erik's jaw clenched, and he wasn't quite looking at him. "Never do that again. We didn't know if we'd get you back at all, Charles. It's been killing Raven, and-" Killing me too. When I let myself admit the possibility.

He swallowed hard. "I...I didn't mean to be gone so long. I had no control over it once I was in that state. I never meant to hurt anyone..."

"I know, Charles; I thought as much. I just..." Erik rubbed at his forehead in distraction. I couldn't take that again. "Just don't do that again. I know this isn't going to be easy for you..."

Crippled. He was crippled now. Paralyzed. Paraplegic. It could have been worse-he'd gathered from Erik's mind that he'd nearly died-but...

But he would never walk again. And nothing would change that. And he was going to have to learn to live with it.

He was still flat on his back, and Erik looked down to catch his eyes. "But you're not alone, Charles. Don't leave us again."

He remembered last night. He remembered feeling the shock all over again, the pain, the anger, the hopelessness...Charles remembered that he'd cried, and that Erik had held him until they'd both fallen asleep.

And he wanted to promise that he wouldn't leave again. He wanted to.

But he couldn't promise.

He fought to remember that if he'd stopped it from happening Erik would be dead. That he'd done it to save him. He fought to remember that life would undoubtedly be different, but that he could still have one. He fought to hold onto the fact that Erik was here, and Raven was here, and that Hank and Sean and Alex were still here. They hadn't left. That he knew because he could sense them nearby. They all cared, and Raven and Erik would do anything for him.

But a part of Charles still wanted to curl up in the back of his mind again and never deal with a world in which he couldn't walk.

So he couldn't answer, because he didn't want to lie. He closed his eyes instead, avoiding the question. It hadn't been phrased as a question, exactly, but they both knew that it was.

"I'm sorry," he said again, in lieu of anything else.

He sensed that Erik, of course, wasn't satisfied, because he knew that avoiding an answer was what Charles was doing.

There was a sigh, and then movement, and then the weight on the other side of the bed was gone. "Are you hungry?" Erik asked.

Charles hadn't thought about it yet, but now he realized that he was, in fact, quite famished. "Yes, actually," he admitted, letting his eyes open again. He started to sit up and Erik reached instinctively to help him, but Charles held up a hand to stave him off. "I've got it..." Doing his best to ignore the sharp soreness from what was left of the bruises peppering his body, he pulled himself up against the headboard again as Erik straightened, trying not to look hurt.

It isn't personal, my friend. I just...

Needed to do something for himself. Anything. Anything to make him feel as if maybe life could be somewhat normal again after this.

Erik nodded silently in understanding and turned to go. "I'll be back." He paused at the door, though, and glanced over his shoulder. "If anyone else is up would you rather I not mention that you're awake just yet?"

Charles nodded in relief. "That would be appreciated, thank you." He knew how much the others had worried, but he needed at least a few hours to himself before he could face them. Especially Raven. It didn't seem too much to ask.

But Erik had only been gone a few moments before he called to Charles silently, urging him to see what he saw. Charles, it's...

Raven. Erik had found her up and in the kitchen already, making herself breakfast in a rather frustrated manner and too upset to be holding a form. Her robe and pajamas were starkly white against her blue skin, and it only made her scowl seem darker. She hadn't even noticed yet that Erik was there.

"Raven?" Erik asked.

She twisted in surprise, swiping at her face and shifting quickly into her human form.

"You don't have to do that."

She shrugged weakly and shifted back, blue again.

"What's wrong?"

Raven shook her head and turned back to the counter to butter her toast. "Nothing...stupid dream, is all."

Charles?

Charles winced and pressed his hands to his eyes for a moment. Send her up here. As much as he wished he could have more time to collect himself before seeing anyone other than Erik, he would not leave his sister like that. She was upset because she believed he still hadn't woken, and she didn't know if he would. He didn't have to read her mind to know that, and he didn't want to know exactly what her nightmares may have entailed.

Raven was making a pointed effort now to appear nonchalant, but it wasn't working. Erik called her name again, and when she glanced at him all he had to do was nod toward the stairs. She dropped the knife and toast and stared at him for a moment, unsure, but when he smiled a bit she bolted from the kitchen.

Charles disengaged from Erik then, and all he saw was his room. He could already hear his sister's pounding footsteps on the stairs.

Soon enough the door burst open, and Raven paused inside just long enough to confirm that he was was, in fact, awake. "Charles...!" She hurried across the room and all but jumped up onto the bed beside him to wrap her arms around his neck. "Charles, thank god..."

He had to force himself not to cry out when his still-aching body protested the impact, and he had to return the embrace tightly just to keep himself from being knocked over by the force of it, but he didn't mind. Still, his voice came out a bit breathlessly. "Raven, I-"

But he was momentarily silenced when she pulled back just long enough to briefly press her lips to his, as she'd done to say goodnight when they were children. It was a bit more fervent now, understandably, but just as sisterly. The long since nearly-forgotten gesture brought back enough memories of the better days that Charles found himself suddenly unable to speak at all as he clung to her.

Well you haven't done that in a while.

You've never been in a not-exactly-a-coma for two months before.

I'm sorry. I never meant-

I know... She sobbed inwardly. But we thought we were losing you, Charles. I can't lose you. You're my brother.

Half of your brother...

He hadn't meant to think it, and he certainly hadn't meant her to hear it, but he knew she had because the moment it was out she abruptly sat back on her heels. Her arms slipped from his neck and Charles caught her hands before she could break away completely.

"I'm so sorry; that was insensitive..."

Raven grimaced and looked away. "Why are you apologizing? I'm the one who didn't get there in time. I should apologize. I-"

"No," Charles said quickly. His voice was suddenly thick, but he made himself continue. "I've told you; this is not your fault."

"You still shouldn't apologize," she said darkly, pushing off the bed entirely and pulling her hands away. "You have every right to feel that way; you're the one who's paralyzed!"

"Raven..."

She still blamed herself. When he'd shown her what happened because he couldn't bring himself to tell her he'd been too distracted from the pain to remember to keep from her how close it had been. She would blame herself for not getting there in time until something changed her mind.

But Raven's mind was not changed easily.

"Don't 'Raven' me! This is not one of those times I slipped up when we were kids and got you in trouble, and this is not one of those times where you're all disappointed when I'm immature, and this is not...anything else! This is not Cain smashing a vase over your head or his bastard of a father 'accidentally' shoving you down the stairs. This is not stitches or a minor broken bone that'll heal in a few weeks. This is your legs, Charles, and it's permanent, and I could have stopped it..."

She was crying now, arms crossed tightly over her chest as if to hold herself together, and he wished he knew how to make it better but he didn't. "N-No, Raven," he stammered. "I didn't want you anywhere near Shaw. I-and what could you have done? The fact that Erik was able to do anything at all was..." A fluke, as angry as he'd been over what had just happened. Erik didn't truly understand how to control his powers that well yet. he didn't understand that he needed more than the anger.

And perhaps Raven could take care of herself, but she had nothing that could have stood up to Shaw.

"You would have been dead if you'd tried to face him, Raven, and I can't lose you, either," Charles said quietly. He held out a hand to beckon her back to him. "Please...please don't cry. Please..." Please stop before "I" do...

But he kept that thought to himself.

Raven looked at his hand for a long moment before she took it, hesitantly, but once he'd squeezed hers she climbed quickly back onto the mattress beside him and buried her face in his shoulder again. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry..."

"Stop," he whispered. He kissed her cheek and held her close, and finally she stopped crying and just held onto him.

He'd wanted more time before he had to do this-before he had to look his sister in the eye and tell her that everything was going to be all right. He wanted her to believe it-he wanted to believe it himself-but he didn't know. He wasn't there yet.

But he could do this. He could always do this, because for so long Raven had been all he had, and he didn't know what he would do without her.

By the time the door opened again Raven was sitting quietly beside him, nestled in his arm around her shoulders, and Erik returned with a tray that held three plates and cups, and enough butter and toast and orange juice to feed a small army.

"I didn't think Raven would want to go anywhere," he explained. "I don't."

Charles managed to smile. "Toast is all I get?" he teased.

"You haven't eaten food in more than two months, Charles. I would even go light on the butter and the juice, if I were you."

Erik sat on the edge of the bed and seemed unsure of what to do with the tray. After a moment Charles held out his hands for it and motioned to his dead legs stretched in front of him. "Well they're here; they might as well be useful for something." Erik was still reluctant, but when Charles all but grabbed the tray he relented, shifted closer and helped settle the tray in Charles's lap. The three of them could all reach it quite well there, actually, and no one complained about the crumbs on the blanket as they ate.

If his life was going to be different now Charles supposed this wasn't a bad way to start-breakfast with the two people who meant the most to him in the world. They managed, too, not to let it seem too gloomy at all. Later he didn't remember exactly, but he was relatively sure they even laughed a few times though he didn't remember at all what they'd talked about-anything but his legs, he did know.

The only horrible damper was the moment he remembered that the only other person he might have really wanted here just now was dead, Moira was dead, and he nearly choked on his toast when he sobbed so suddenly he hadn't known it was going to happen.

"Charles?" Erik asked quickly.

Raven, beside him, had a hand at his back as he coughed. "What happened?"

"Something went down the wrong way," he lied, swallowing hard both to get the toast out of the way and to push back the lump in his throat. "I'm fine."

He wondered when it would be true-really true, not just moments snatched like this when he could forget.

The morning got better again when Erik mentioned that he would call Charles's local doctor when they were done eating. The man had been in to check on him a few times since he had been brought home, and he would need to come now that Charles was awake.

By then Raven had finished and excused herself to get dressed for the day, and Charles cleared his throat. "Please do; I would very much like this catheter out."

Erik blinked at him. "You can feel that?"

"It's rather annoying."

And his friend was grinning. "That's good. They didn't know if you'd..."

Charles colored suddenly when he realized what Erik meant, and when he sifted through the memories of the doctors in Nevada that came to the surface in his friend's mind he understood more. "Ah."

Erik shrugged a bit. "The break was low, but they weren't sure if it was low enough that...well, they said we wouldn't know exactly how much you could feel or not until you woke up and could tell us."

"I see..."

Good news. Something. It helped.