1Charles is missing. This is, after nearly three quarters of an hour of pressing for his friend's whereabouts, the answer he gets. He doesn't blame the kid, just worries. He reaches out, screaming to nothing in his mind. Charles touches his mind, but won't tell him where he is, Erik pushes, until, finally, Charles admits that he's hiding from his own students, and says he'll let Erik in, but no-one else.
Erik tries to communicate that he's, well, rather worried by that, but Charles closes him off, leaving him with only the name of a hotel, and a room number. He goes there, and knocks on the door, repeatedly. Finally, he hears Charles in his mind, saying to let himself in. He manipulates the mechanism in the lock, and opens the door. There's two beds, Charles is on one of them, under the covers, not much of him really visible.
Erik moves to the side of his friend's bed, "I need your help. But... are you alright?"
Charles lies still for a moment, then digs his way out from his mountain of blankets, looking miserably at Erik, wheezing slightly. His eyes and nose are all red, there's snot on his upper lip, and his hair, starting to recede at a frankly rather alarming rate, is completely soaked with sweat. Erik grabs tissues, and wipes away the snot, "you look terrible. And your breathing doesn't sound much better."
"I'm allergic..."
"To what? Air?"
"One of my new students. Needed to get away to recover...don't know what I'm going to do."
Erik stared at him for a long, long moment. Then, slowly, he started to laugh. He gripped Charles's arm, "god help you, Charles."
Charles managed a small, relatively false smile, but followed it up by dropping his head back into the pillow. Erik rubbed at his back, as he started coughing, hard, "I need your help talking to a diplomat."
"Hank will know if we can help."