This is rated M for references to physical/emotional abuse and brief mention of rape in future chapters.
Charles slowly sat up, feeling groggy and woozy. He looked around, not quite sure where he was. He blinked a couple times, trying to break through the haze in his mind. His eyes scanned the room he was in, searching for something to let him know where he was. That was when he saw the dent in the wall by the closet and Charles' heart sank, his left hand unconsciously going to the back of his head. He remembered making that dent. He remembered the trip to the hospital and Raven's worry.
Then it all came rushing back. Jon had drugged him, somehow, and kidnapped him. He had to call Erik, get out of here.
He swung his legs over the side of the bed, just then noticing that he was still in his pajamas, and dropped his head into his hands. Oh thank god, nothing happened. Charles looked around, hoping to spot a phone. Nothing. And his cell phone was back in Erik's apartment. He had to get in touch with him somehow, let Erik know where he was.
Jon probably had his cell phone on him, wherever he was, so there was no way for Charles to—landline. He let out a little huff of breath. Of course. There was a landline here, based in the kitchen. And Erik had made him memorize his cell number, in case Charles had to call from anywhere. Admittedly, this was probably not quite the situation they had envisioned when they talked about that, but whatever.
Charles got to his feet, only to sink right back down onto the bed as the room spun and tilted around him. "Okay," he muttered after a moment. "Let's try this again." This time the room spun only a little bit before steadying and he opened the bedroom door as quietly as possible, just in case Jon was still in the apartment.
He poked his head out into the hall and listened. Nothing. No sounds whatsoever. Good. It meant he was safe, for now. Charles slipped down the hall, automatically avoiding the noisy sections out of habit, until he reached the kitchen and grabbed the cordless phone off the counter. He dialed Erik's cell phone and waited, crossing the fingers of his right hand—finally free of his cast but weak—and praying.
On the second ring, Erik picked up. "Who the hell is this and why are you calling me?"
Charles sagged against the wall in relief, covering his eyes with his forearm. Tears filled his eyes. Thank god.
"You have three seconds before I hang up," Erik demanded, sounding pissed.
"Erik," Charles breathed, his voice sounding slightly strangled but full of relief. The sound of screeching tires reached him and he realized that Erik was driving. Hope sparked that maybe, just maybe, Erik was on his way here already. Maybe Raven had figured it out; she knew where the apartment was.
"Charles. Are you okay? Are you hurt?" Erik asked. There was a world of relief in his voice, along with concern.
Charles shook his head, forgetting that Erik couldn't see him. "No, no I'm all right, Erik."
"Where are you, Charles?" A new voice entered the conversation.
"Raven?" he breathed. He was grateful for the solidity of the counter behind him. His sister was there, too. "I'm—I'm at my old apartment. You remember where that is?"
"Yeah. I can direct Erik there." He heard the sound of the engine revving and realized they were driving again.
"Charles, is he there? Is Jon in the apartment with you?" Another new voice entered the conversation and Charles felt a little faint.
He turned to the living room, needing somewhere to sit. "Alex? Is there anyone else listening in that I should know about?"
Erik said, "Sorry about that, Charles. I've got you on speakerphone. Sean's here, as well."
Raven added, "We're about a half hour away, Charles."
"How are you that close?" He ignored the need to sit in order to find out what time it was. He pushed the curtain aside to look out the window and saw that the sun was up. It had clearly been up for several hours, judging by its position above the horizon. How long was I out?
Alex said, "Security cameras caught Jon carrying you out. Tech got the license plate and we sent out an APB. Sean and I figured he'd bring you back to Michigan so I called my brother and asked him to keep a lookout while we drove up. Charles, is there somewhere you can hide, somewhere that you can block the door so Jon can't get to you if he gets there before we do?"
Charles looked around, thinking. "Umm…the bedroom, probably. I can shove the dresser in front of the door."
"Good, do that. We'll be there as soon as we can," Alex told him.
"Okay."
"Stay strong, Charles. We're coming. I love you."
Charles smiled despite the circumstances, feeling his heart flutter in response. "I love you, too."
Erik told him one last time to stay strong and they hung up. Charles went back into the bedroom, proceeded to shove the dresser in front of the door and sat on the bed to wait, wishing he had something warmer to wear than a plain white t-shirt and pajama pants.
Charles heard the front door open and he was inches from pushing the dresser out of the way before he stopped himself. He backed up, telling himself, No, that could just as easily be Jon as Erik. Footsteps, heavy. Erik didn't wear anything that made that kind of sound but Jon liked to wear steel toed boots. That was bad. Charles backed up further. He watched the doorknob turn but thankfully the dresser held. For now.
"So you're awake, huh?" Jon sounded amused, of all things. Charles swallowed hard, the color draining from his face as he watched the door inch open, flashing back to Erik's apartment. Would this end the same way?
Jon was quiet as he worked to open the door, leaving Charles' fear to rise more and more. Then the door was open wide enough for Jon to slip through and face him.
Charles took a step back and hit the closet. He had trouble breathing as Jon advanced.
Jon lifted his hands, palm out, as if trying to calm him. "Don't worry, Charles. You're safe now."
"Safe?" Charles half-laughed, incredulous. "I'm never safe with you. I was safe with Erik and you ruined that."
Jon shook his head. "No, Erik only wants to control you. I was only trying to free you; and now I have."
"No. No, that's you," Charles retaliated, feeling a surge of anger that came out of nowhere. "You're the one trying to control me; you have been for years and I never noticed." His voice shook slightly and he tried to steady himself by repeating in his head that Erik was on his way, with help.
Jon shook his head again and Charles saw that flash of anger that he was so familiar with. "You don't know him like I do."
"You don't know Erik at all!"
Jon scowled, lowering his hands. "Then how did I know how to get him away from you?"
Charles gaped at him as the pieces slid together. Jon had to have been watching him—them—for days to plan everything. "You—you're the reason Erik got called in to the hospital?"
Jon smirked. "Do you know how long I had to wait for them to call him in? I thought I was going to have to resort to even more drastic measures."
Charles cried out, "You nearly killed someone just to get Erik out of the apartment!?"
Jon suddenly closed the distance between them, putting his hands on either side of Charles, effectively trapping him against the closet door. His voice was low, almost ominous. "I just want you, Charles, and I'm willing to do anything to have you."