Wheel Chair stress.
Disclaimer: Just trust me when I say none of these characters are mine, please...
When the car took a turn around the last bend before his Westchester Mansion, Charles felt his heart leap a little bit inside. He hadn't been home in nearly four months. It was a feeling of excitement and anxiety. He was glad to be home, but there was much work to do once he arrived there.
First off, many adjustments had to be made to the Mansion. Elevators were now necessary. There was no way that he could maneuver a wheelchair up the stairs. Also, certain countertops may have to be lowered for the use of himself, along with other minor changes along the same line.
On top of that, there was still the idea of possibly turning this mansion into a school for other mutants in need. He would have legal issues, government codes to follow, along with cleaning up the various rooms to allow kids to board in.
As Charles was lifted out of the car and back into his wheelchair, he was already faced with his first issue. The front door. Charles looked up at his first of many challenges. There was the front door, that was nearly two stories tall in itself. In front of this spectacular door, was Charles four first enemies. Four. Simple. Steps.
Charles had never before in his life noticed that those steps existed. Being in a wheelchair opened his eyes like he could never imagine. Charles rolled up towards the stairs until he was about 6 feet away, and stopped dead in his tracks…or trail more like it.
xxxxx
Erik saw Charles stop. It took him a moment to realize why he had, but when he realized, he felt another pang of guilt hit him. Charles stayed completely still in front of Erik. Erik did the only think he could think of and felt for the metal in Charles's wheelchair. He gently lifted the wheel chair up, off the ground, and over the stairs, onto the porch. Erik tuned out any unaccepting grunts from Charles.
Those were the only remarks Charles made before he rolled inside. Erik and Hank followed in slowly after him. Erik could tell that Charles didn't know what to do with himself. "Shall I go and find the others?" Erik suggested.
Charles softly mumbled that sounded something like, "I'll go find them myself," and rolled away. Erik started to follow but stopped when Charles let out something he didn't understand, but by the tone, it seemed Charles was done with Erik for the moment.
xxxxx
Charles moved around the first floor of his childhood home, suddenly realizing how much he was cut off from. He figured everyone was in the sitting room, which to Charles's relief, was on the first floor. He rolled down the hallway. "Rolled." It was the new walk.
Charles guesses were right. He turned and looked inside the room. Inside sat Sean, Alex, Raven, and Moria. "Hello," he pushed out quietly. Charles didn't even have to enter the sitting room. Immediately all four smiling faces rushed out to him, all unknowingly fighting over who got to hug Charles first. As expected, Raven won the unspoken battle.
It was nice to see all of them again. "Well new faces are a pleasant surprise," Charles said happily, forgetting any previous angers. "I hope Hank hasn't put you guys to too much work," Charles added, with a genuine smile. He continued to talk the four of them, listening to various stories that had happened to them while he was gone. They talked for at least an hour, or until whenever Erik walked down the hall.
Charles let out a glare at Erik. Charles didn't know why he suddenly had all this hatred towards the man. He was perfectly understanding of the situation, and after nearly four months of just the two of them in the hospital, he should have been perfectly comfortable with Erik being around.
But then there was that feeling of extreme hatred that wanted to scream out of his lungs. Erik walked down the hall, the way he always had, but now, Charles viewed it as almost a strut. Charles sat confined in a wheelchair, while Erik showed off his skills of still walking… Whatever feelings of hatred Charles had been feeling, were sent deep down inside him. Charles didn't understand why he had these feelings, so he saw it best to bury them.
Charles glanced down at his wrist. It was already nearly nine. "It's probably best if I get to bed. And I must admit, I shall be nice to sleep in my own bed, in my own room," Charles paused, "…alone." He sent another glare at Erik. Where are these feelings coming from? "Erik, if you wouldn't mind helping me up the stairs…"
"Of course Charles."
Erik lifted his wheelchair up and headed towards the stairs. "You know, if we're going to keep this up, we may have to invest in a seatbelt," Erik tried to joke. Charles didn't look at him, but made a face that he didn't even realize he was capable of making.
When they reached the top of the stairs, Charles was placed on the ground, and rolled down towards his room. Erik started to follow him. "Erik, I can manage to get to my room myself."
"Charles…are you sure?"
"Erik. Go." His friend turned around. Charles immediately felt terrible for what he had said. He made a note to apologize the next morning. He went instinctively towards a door at the end of the hall. He leaned forward, reached for the nob, and pushed it open. His hands slipped to the wheel of his chair and he rolled forward. However Charles didn't get very far. He was stopped with a large thump. He tried again. Thump. Again. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
He tried to straighten himself out more, and tried again, only to be greeted with thump. His chair was too wide for the doorway. Are all the doorways like this? Charles wondered silently. He thought about calling mentally for someone, but decided that he didn't want the help. However, he knew there was no way for him to get into his room tonight. That much he realized.
He silently rolled back down the hall, and to the broom cupboard. He opened the door, relived to see that the extra pillows and blankets were on a low shelf. He grabbed some of each and rolled back to his doorway. He laid them down on the ground, and pulled himself out of the wheelchair. It was a time like this where he was thankful for the physical therapy. He laid his head down on the set of fluffy pillows he grabbed himself. Then he grabbed the sheet and pulled it over himself.
I guess I'll camp out for the night.