Alex wandered the building he had called home for a short time and debated over what to do next. He wasn't really needed around here; Hank was the resident doctor, there to make sure everyone stayed healthy. Raven was Charles' sister and would always have a place at his side no matter what happened. Erik was vulnerable right now, so fragile and frightened and in need of constant care, so Charles wouldn't throw him out on his own any time soon.
That just left him. When he had heard through the grapevine that his old friends needed help busting people out of a lab, he had hightailed it back to the mansion in less than ten hours. And come on, everyone needed a little extra firepower every now and then. But he had done his job, he reasoned. He should just leave them be now. They had their own problems to deal with.
But then he would see Charles wheeling around the house, face drawn and far too pale; Hank sitting jittery in his lab, tapping his fingers on the table as he paced and muttered and raged as he tried to get work done in the lab; how Raven lay listless in her room for hours at a time, refusing everything because her grief was so deep and fresh. And then there was Erik, who stared at everyone with huge Bambi eyes and flinched if you so much as looked at him wrong. He was quiet and small and skittered at the edge of everyone's vision, never actively participating unless Hank or Charles forced him to, and then he would stutter over his words and turn red in the face before bolting from the room.
It was as he was thinking through all of this while he pummeled a punching bag into oblivion that he heard someone at the door. Whoever it was was shuffling awkwardly on their feet. Alex checked the time out of the corner of his eye; it was nearly two in the morning. Everyone should already be in bed. When he turned to glance at the doorway, he saw Erik peeking in warily; his eyes were wide, hair messy, and pajamas rumpled.
Alex felt his nerves calm just at the sight of his former mentor. Erik had been closer to Alex than the others, mostly because they both had tried using anger to fuel their mutations but had been forced to see that anger was not everything by Charles.
That had left Alex feeling a bit of kinship with the former Nazi-hunter and it still remained, even after Erik had stranded them on that god-forsaken beach. What could he say? He had liked the asshole.
Erik bit his lip, inching away from Alex's intense gaze, before Alex realized that he had been staring and not speaking.
He released the punching bag, letting it swing on its chain as he removed the gloves he was wearing. Erik watched him warily, craning his neck to see what Alex would do next. He slipped his hands into a pair of flat gloves and waved at the doorway.
"Come here Erik. I promise, I don't bite." Erik bit his lip, deliberating, before taking a few cautious steps into the gym. Alex got down on one knee and waited with a calm, patient expression for Erik to stop in front of him. "Can't sleep either?" he asked, knowing the answer from the dark smudges beneath Erik's eyes and the way he wouldn't meet Alex's gaze.
"I can't either. Wanna practice with me for a bit? It helps, sometimes." Erik nodded, scrunching his hands up in his shirt as he watched Alex's calm, smooth movements.
"C'mon, hit me. Best shot," Alex goaded, smiling widely when Erik reared back and slammed his fist into Alex's gloved hand. "Good one. Got some more for me?" Erik smirked and punched with all he had, hitting one glove and then the other, back and forth and back and forth until he was grinning like a loon and heaving breaths. He pulled back one last time, getting sloppy as he tired, and missed the gloves, slamming his fist into Alex's nose with a loud crack! Erik reeled back, his hands covering his mouth as he gasped, backpedaling in shock and fear as his eyes filled with tears. And things had been going so well!
"Es tut mir leid! Sorry, sorry!" he warbled, his face screwing up in fear as the tears fell down his cheeks. He skittered back towards the door, not sure if he should run away or stay and try to help.
Alex reeled back in surprise more than pain. Sure, his nose was broken because even as a little kid, Erik packed a big punch. But he had been hit in the face more times than he could remember and he was pretty used to it by now. It was shocking for a long moment, but he recovered quickly. He got back up on his knees, covering his bleeding nose with one hand while he searched for Erik. He saw him hovering in the doorway, fear flooding his face as he waited to see how Alex would react.
He smiled shakily at Erik, holding his arms open invitingly. "Hey, come on now. It's fine. It was an accident. I'm fine." Erik dithered for a moment before throwing himself into Alex's arms.
"I'm sorry," Erik said sadly, sounding so very miserable from where he smushed his face into Alex's chest.
"I told you, it's fine. I know you didn't do it on purpose." Alex rubbed his hand up and down Erik's back, trying to calm him down. Once his breathing evened out from the wracking sobs into something more calm, Alex tugged him back to see his face. He knew his nose was bleeding, because head wounds sucked, but hopefully it didn't look too frightening.
"You were thinking about leaving, and now you're going to, because I was stupid and I wouldn't blame you if you weren't here in the morning, I always screw everything up, I can never keep anything good...," Erik rambled, his wide eyes staring at Alex with fresh tears.
Alex felt his eyebrows rise to his hairline. Did Erik really think that? "What? No, Erik. I'm not leaving. Not any time soon, anyway." And since when did he decide that? Maybe it was the face Erik was giving him, all sad and hopeful. Maybe he just wanted to be somewhere safe with his friends again.
Alex felt his lips twitch as Erik relaxed ever so slightly in his grasp. "Promise?" he asked, hating how small his voice sounded, but he needed to be sure. If Alex left...
"I promise, buddy." He buried his nose in Erik's hair, ruffling it slowly. "Now, let's go see if Hank will take a look at my nose. Maybe if we ask really nicely, he'll even make us some hot chocolate. What do you think?" he asked playfully, rising to his feet with Erik in his arms in one fluid movement.
Erik smirked, laughing quietly into Alex's shoulder. Alex toted them through the mansion until they wound up outside Hank's lab. The light was still on, so Alex wandered right in, setting Erik down on a bench and going over to where Hank was bent over a microscope, snoring lightly.
"Hey, Beast. Wake up. We've got a situation." Alex nudged Hank in the shoulder with his hip, snorting as he watched Hank flail awake, half falling out of his chair.
"What? What's wrong? Is Erik alright?"
Erik was touched that he was one of the first things that Hank asked about. Alex just pointed to his nose and waited for Hank to make the connection.
"Ah. That I can fix." He went to work on fixing Alex's nose, setting it and placing a clip to keep it from shifting. The bleeding stopped and Hank cleaned the remaining blood on his face off calmly.
"So how did this happen?" Hank asked conversationally, dabbing at Alex's nose.
"Bit of a mishap with the boxing gloves," Alex explained, tipping his head in Erik's direction.
Hank glanced his way, noticing the boy's guilty expression as he kneaded his hands in his tshirt. He sent him a soft, understanding smile and watched Erik's whole body relax.
"Eh, it happens," Hank replied, turning back to Alex, who gave him a grateful look. It would have been horrible if Hank had laid into Erik about hurting someone.
"Alright, I'm finished with you," Hank said after a few more minutes, slapping Alex on the shoulder. Then he turned to Erik and wiped down his knuckles. "Are you ready for bed now? It's a bit late," Hank asked quietly. Erik turned to Alex with wide, pleading eyes, and Alex smirked.
"Hank," Alex sang out cheerily. "Since we made such perfect patients, we were wondering if you could make us that delicious hot chocolate that I know you know how to make? Please?" Alex wheedled, grasping his hands in front of his chest. Erik smiled at Alex's display and copied his pleading expression.
Hank caved almost instantly. "Fine. One mug each, and then it's back to bed. For both of you," Hank said sternly, waving a finger in Alex's face. Alex shot off a quick salute, winked at Erik, and then threw the little metalbender over his shoulder and carted him after Hank into the kitchen.
Erik squirmed on Alex's shoulder, but Alex's grip was strong and stabalizing. For the first time since he had arrived back at the mansion, Erik felt the knot of worry and instability loosen in his chest. He felt like he could breath easily for the first time in weeks.
Alex dropped Erik onto the counter and then went about bugging Hank until their drinks were ready. "Alright, it's going to be hot. Don't drink it right away," Hank warned, and Erik rolled his eyes, slightly aggravated. It's like they kept forgetting he was only a child in body, not mind.
"I'm no baby," Erik pointed out once again, grinding his teeth in annoyance.
Hank just rolled his eyes and punched Alex playfully in the shoulder. "Who said I was talking to you, short stuff?" Erik spluttered on a laugh and Alex pouted at the bigger mutant.
"That's cold, Hank," he whined. As Erik giggled, Hank and Alex exchanged loaded glances over his head; crisis averted.
Erik chose to ignore them in favor of his drink, watching the steam rise up off the liquid. He blew on it for a few minutes before daring to take a small sip, nearly spilling when he found that it was still far too hot. Alex was at his side in a moment, steadying the mug and wiping the dripped hot chocolate off of Erik's face.
Erik, in turn, simply pouted, glaring at his drink unhappily. Alex rolled his eyes but took up a perch beside Erik on the counter, choosing not to comment.
After a few more minutes, Erik rubbed his eyes in exhaustion, feeling the tiredness tugging at his limbs now that he had gotten a bit of the warm liquid into his body. Now that it was cooler, he was practically guzzling the stuff. The warm feeling spreading from his chest outwards was like a godsend; he hadn't felt this warm or comfortable in weeks.
As he tilted sideways into Alex's shoulder, Alex glanced down to find him dozing. With a fond look in his eyes, Alex scooped the boy up and toted him up to his room, dropping him onto the bed and under the covers. As he turned to leave, he glanced around the room. It was so bare, not something that any kid would enjoy. Though Erik liked to remind them that he was in no way a baby, he was usually acting younger than he supposedly was mentally.
Perhaps in the morning he would run to town, grab Erik some more clothes and toys, some things to hang on his walls and blankets that were soft and comfortable.
In the morning, though. Now, it was time for some much needed sleep.
He didn't get much, though. He woke up from a deep sleep about two hours later to noise from the room next door, which just so happened to be Erik's. Grumbling to himself, Alex fell out of bed and went to investigate.
Erik was buried beneath a mass of blankets, shaking and shivering. His face was wet with tears and Alex tried to reach out and wipe them off. Before his fingers even made contact with his face, Erik let out the most pitiful whimper he had ever heard, and then shivered and rolled away, nearly rolling right off the bed.
"Erik, buddy. You need to wake up for me, okay?" He reached out and knudged at Erik's blanket coccoon, waiting for any response. After a few more minutes of gentle prodding, Erik rolled over to glare up at Alex groggily, before he realized just what had happened.
His groan was long, loud, and heartfelt. "I woke you up?" he asked, sounding disappointed with himself.
Alex just shrugged, though Erik wasn't looking at him. "These walls are pretty thin, I could hear you. Come on, we can keep each other company for a while."
And without bothering to get Erik's opinion on that, Alex scooped him up and carried him into his own room, curling under the blankets and tugging Erik under his blankets with him.
Erik struggled for a bit, trying to get out of Alex's hold, but it was futile. "Quit squirming and go to sleep," Alex grumbled, tightening his hold ever so slightly. Erik sighed but did settle down, turning his face into Alex's throat with a heavy sigh.
When Erik woke the next morning, Alex had already disappeared from the bed. Thinking nothing of it, Erik crawled out of the bed and went about getting himself ready for the day. When he finally wandered downstairs, Charles was the only one in sight.
With a confused scowl on his face, Erik went about doing mild acrobatics to get himself some breakfast, while Charles watched from the table. With a pang of guilt, Erik realized that Charles wasn't helping him not because he didn't want to, but because he physically couldn't.
Keeping his eyes on his newly acquired breakfast, Erik sat down opposite Charles and munched on his cereal in silence. He could feel Charles' eyes on him, studying him. By the time he was halfway through his bowl, he had had enough of the silent judgement.
"If you have something to say, sag es!" he grumbled, eyes blazing in aggravation. Charles looked down at him with sad eyes, his hair scraggly and unkempt, looking terrible and defeated.
"I don't mean to stare, Erik." He paused, not quite sure how to continue, until he blurted, "You know, if you ever need to talk, or want to talk, that I'm here for you." And Gott, but he looked so sincere, so heartbroken.
Erik scowled, glaring into his cereal bowl. "Why? If I wasn't stuck like this, you wouldn't have a thing to do with me!" he shouted back, his shoulders slumping in defeat. "And I don't blame you. I wouldn't want anything to do with me, either. Not after what I did." He glanced at the wheelchair through his fringe, giving it a dirty look, before averting his eyes in shame. He had done that, he was the reason Charles couldn't walk. He could continue to lie to himself for forever and a day, but it would never change what he knew in his heart: he had hurt one of his dearest friends, in an offhanded, spur of the moment split second decision, a reflex really.
And by the look on Charles' face, he knew exactly what was going through Erik's mind, without even using his powers. Nevertheless, Erik felt the need to reiterate: "Stay out of my head!" Charles looked like a kicked puppy once more, shaking his head sadly.
"I'm not anywhere near your thoughts, Erik. However, your face is practically screaming your guilt and shame. I understand how you must be feeling, really. But Erik, I don't blame you. Yes, I was angry for a very long time, but I've come to terms with this; that I'll never have use of my legs again. I'm not holding some hidden grudge against you, I promise."
"Promises are made to be broken, old friend," Erik spat out, thinking of his promise to bring Azazel back to Raven, of his promise to help Charles, of the promise his mother had given him right before her death. Nothing had been alright then, and nothing was alright now.
"Erik," Charles breathed out, sounding almost in pain. "Some things cannot be avoided. Some promises have to be broken, that doesn't mean that every promise is null and void the moment it's made."
Thinking of promises brought up his memory of the night before, the promise Alex had made him, that he wouldn't be leaving any time soon. A black pit of doubt grew in his stomach, his eyes widening as he realized what the empty bed might actually mean. Had Alex deserted them, even after promising?
Still, what was a promise made to someone like him?
"I think I'm going to be sick," Erik warned, before he darted from the room, sprinting upstairs to the nearest bathroom, where he collapsed to the ground and leaned his head against the toilet bowl, dry heaving.
He could hear shouting downstairs, but ignored it. He layed there in his misery until he felt someone picking him up, holding him against his chest.
"Erik, what's wrong? Did you eat something that didn't agree with you?" He was in Hank's arms now, but he didn't want Hank, he wanted Alex, where was Alex, had he run him off like he ran everyone else off eventually?
He dissolved into tears, burying his face into Hank's neck as he whined and whimpered. He must have let out Alex's name at some point, because Hank grunted in understanding as he took them both downstairs.
"Alex said he was going into town for a few things, he didn't leave for good. He didn't want to wake you, but he let me know before he left that he'd be back as soon as possible." And just like that, the constriction that wasn't letting him get a breath in disappeared, and he gulped in air.
"He's not gone?" he asked, just to be sure he understood Hank correctly. Hank buried his nose in Erik's short hair and nodded.
"He's not gone. He'll be right back." Erik's body shaking sigh of relief calmed him down, and he was back to being mortified. Ugh, he had broken down in front of Charles. He had acted like a child, made himself sick over the idea that Alex might have left.
But not just left them, left him.
He was so tired, tired of losing people, of people leaving him. He had been alone for so long that he had thought he was used to it by now. Apparently, that was not the case.
And of course, Alex had terrible timing. As Erik was trying to surrepticiously wipe his eyes on Hank's shoulder, Alex walked through the door, bags fit to bursting in his arms. He took one good look at Erik's face and dropped the bags by the door, taking two long strides into the kitchen and scooping Erik up into his arms, shushing him and rubbing his back while giving Hank his best 'what the hell' look.
"He thought you had left for good. Almost made himself sick." Alex frowned. Erik shook in his arms in relief more than fear, and closed his eyes, breathing in Alex's scent.
"Kid, I just told you last night that I wasn't leaving any time soon. I promised, remember?"
And here was where Charles interrupted, looking pained and remorseful. "I think that was my doing. Erik and I were having a discussion about promises; I think that's what caused all this."
Alex sighed, rolled his eyes, and went to the doorway to pick up all his packages before taking Erik upstairs to his room. "You gotta start trusting me Erik. I told you I wasn't leaving and then you go and make yourself sick because you didn't believe me? You know me better than that!"
Erik pouted when he was set on the bed. Alex ignored him and started piling bags next to him, instead. Erik took time away from pouting to peek curiously next to him. He knudged one of the bags with his elbow and watched as it tipped on its side and spilled out onto the bed. There were a few race cars, a couple colorful, soft blankets. Underneath those were a tin of little green army men and toy trucks. A peak into the other bag showed that there were enough clothes stuffed inside to last him weeks.
With a sigh, Erik closed his eyes tight, feeling the ball of anger and resignation form in the pit of his stomach. "How many times do I have to tell you all that I'm no child? Those bastards may have changed my physiology, but I'm still an adult!"
Alex slammed the dresser drawer he had been rummaging through and turned to glare down at Erik. "I'm sorry, kid. But you are not the same person that went into that facility weeks ago." Alex stepped forward and wagged a finger in Erik's astonished face. "Adults don't flip their shit when someone runs to town for an hour. Adults don't accidentally break someone's nose and then practically bawl their eyes out about it. You never would have acted like that before, but I'm not really complaining." Alex stopped his rant long enough to look down and notice Erik's teary eyes. He instantly felt like a jackass; it was one thing to notice Erik's odd behavior and trade looks with the others, but it was something else entirely to point it out so plainly to Erik.
Without a word, Alex scooped Erik up and wrapped him up in one of the new blankets. Erik would never admit it, but it felt nice. Even if Alex had just been yelling at him, he knew Alex still cared about what happened to him. "You're gonna be the death of me, kid," Alex sighed, ruffling Erik's hair with a heavy hand.
Erik sighed, burrowing deeper into Alex's shoulder. That's what he feared; that he would be the death of the people around him. He always was, it seemed.
