Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Charles shifted in the uncomfortable chair, flipping the page of the magazine he was idly reading. Nothing was really reaching him, just a blur of words and colors.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
He really hated that beeping machine, that heart rate monitor. Three hours and he was getting really sick of it. And yet, he never wanted the beeping to stop. Because if it stopped…Charles took a shaky breath and glanced to his left. Reached out to take hold of Erik's limp hand and squeezed. "Please wake up," he whispered.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
A hand rested gently on his shoulder and he looked up into his sister's concerned gaze. She wordlessly held out a cup. He took it with his free hand, sipped at the bad hospital coffee, made a face, and returned to watching Erik breathe with the aid of a mask. At least they hadn't needed to intubate him. Raven said quietly, "Emma says there's a bunch of reporters gathering outside."
He immediately shook his head. "No. I'm not talking to them now."
She nodded and bent down to kiss his cheek before joining the others on the other side of the room. They were all worried. Charles bit his lip, setting the cup down. He couldn't lose Erik now, not after everything.
Beep.
Beep.
Beep.
Erik's fingers curled around his. Charles straightened in surprise. "Erik?" he asked, hope lending a light to his voice that had been absent in his response to his sister. Behind him, he heard his friends stirring.
Beep.
Beep.
Charles leaned forward, scanning for any sort of movement. Erik's breathing deepened then his head moved slightly. Charles wrapped both his hands around Erik's. "Erik, it's Charles. Can you hear me?"
Erik's eyes fluttered open, blinking a couple times before settling on Charles. Charles smiled in relief. Erik mumbled through the mask, "Wo bin ich?"
Charles' smile faded. Was something wrong? "What is it, Erik?"
Understanding flashed and Erik squeezed his hand weakly before trying again. "Charles…where am I?"
Charles reassured him, "You're in the hospital, Erik. You're going to be okay."
"You?" His grip tightened.
Charles let the smile free. "I'm perfectly fine, thanks to you."
Erik nodded, once, his eyes sliding shut. Charles panicked. "Erik?"
" 'm 'kay," he mumbled. His voice was a little muffled from the mask. "Tired."
"Are you in any pain? Should I get the nurse?"
Erik shook his head, opening his eyes again and looking over Charles' shoulder. Frowning, Charles twisted and saw everyone grouped behind him. With a smile, he waved them forward. As much as he wanted alone time with Erik, they were all his friends, too.
Of course, though, that was when the nurse walked in. "Oh, you're awake!" she said cheerfully. "Doctor Dobson will be thrilled to hear that." The middle-aged woman came over and gently lifted the oxygen mask off Erik's face. "Do you feel okay breathing on your own or do you want the mask?"
Erik took an experimental breath, slow and steady, and shook his head. "I'm good," Erik told her and Charles felt a little more tension ease out of his shoulders.
Erik was all right, he thought, lacing his fingers through Erik's and squeezing. Erik looked over at him, a question in his eyes…and something else, something Charles couldn't identify but concerned him.
The nurse left the room, to get the doctor, he assumed, and Erik asked, "Did we get him?"
They all knew what he meant and Scott answered quietly, "Yeah, Erik; we got him. On his way to Mason as we speak. Hopefully he'll give up his employer with little fuss."
Erik nodded. "Good. You're…okay? All?" His eyes flicked over everyone, checking. His gaze landed on Charles and stayed there. Charles offered a smile and Erik brushed his thumb across the back of Charles' hand reassuringly.
"Yeah," Scott confirmed. "Everyone's okay. Just waiting on you, for once." There were a few chuckles at that and even Erik cracked a smile.
Dr. Dobson bustled in then, clipboard in hand, and shooed them all to the side, out of her way. Charles, however, refused to move and she allowed him to remain where he was after a moment of silent discussion.
Dr. Dobson was just leaving—with instructions for Erik to rest and them to not agitate him—when Emma stepped inside. "Charles," Emma said and he turned to face her reluctantly. "You have to face them sooner or later, Charles. You're lucky they haven't forced their way inside yet."
"Face who?" Erik asked.
Charles sighed and ran his free hand through his hair. "Reporters. They followed the ambulance and have been camped outside since I arrived." He scrunched his face up in discomfort. "I know what they want to talk to me about and I'd really rather not discuss you almost dying for everyone in the country. Emma, can't you make a press statement or something for me?"
Emma shook her head. "It'll sound better coming from you. You're a politician, Charles; you're going to have to make speeches about things you really don't want to."
Erik pulled his hand free and Charles must have made some sort of sound or face because Erik was holding it again. "I'll be okay for the five minutes you're out there. Go on; get it over with."
"Fine," Charles sighed and reluctantly pulled away.
Erik ordered, "Scott, Jean, Angel…go with him. Keep him safe." His voice was still weak but Charles could hear the silent plea and worry. Erik still worried about him even though he was the one who'd nearly died a few hours ago. Charles knew he would have sent Alex, too, but Raven had to stay inside with someone.
They nodded and headed into the hall. Charles started after them but stopped after a couple steps. Making up his mind, he whirled around and returned to the hospital bed. Charles leaned over and kissed Erik quickly, leaving the room without waiting to see his reaction. He hoped they were together now—especially after Erik kissed him at the debate—but that look in Erik's eyes earlier concerned him and he wanted to let Erik know that this changed nothing for him.
Alex turned to Erik once it was the three of them and raised an eyebrow. "When did that happen?"
Erik glared at him. "Nothing happened."
"Oh, I beg to differ," Alex retorted. "Charles just kissed you. And you let him. That is the very definition of something happening. I'm just trying to figure out when you figured out you were capable of feelings."
Erik didn't answer, unsure of what to say because there was—is—something real happening between him and Charles and he was still figuring out how to handle it. What he could and couldn't do. That kiss at the debate…that should not have happened. Too emotionally attached to the subject. That was what they'd say when they yanked him off the detail.
But he'd wanted it.
Enjoyed it.
He was well and truly fucked.
Raven spoke up then, informing Alex, "It's not their first kiss, either."
Erik shot her a glare as Alex squawked. He reached for the remote as they gossiped about his relationship with Charles.
Was it a relationship?
He winced as he reached further than he should have, the movement tugging at his injury. He felt a lot worse than he let on, if he were being honest with himself.
And that's another thing: when did he start caring so much about Charles' feelings? Why should he care that Charles knew he would be okay even when he himself wasn't so sure?
…and why did he kiss Charles…?
"Erik, are you even listening to me?"
Erik snapped, "What?" as he was jolted out of his thoughts.
Alex held up his hands in mock surrender. "Jeez, I just asked if you wanted something for the pain."
"Oh." Erik thought about it for a moment before acquiescing, if only so he wouldn't be wincing or have to pull away from his touch when Charles came back. Verdammt, now he was making decisions based on Charles! What happened to his life? When did he start caring so much about the happiness of another person before his own?
Maybe getting shot had been a blessing in disguise. It gave him a chance to spend some time alone, away from the professor and the others; maybe gain some perspective on his life and his options.
"Charles, Carl Davids, NBC 3 News. Do you know who shot at you? Is this part of the death threats you've been receiving?"
"Betsy Shahir, Fox News. Mr. Xavier, do you think the nation will side with you after the shooting?"
"Mr. Xavier, Keith Woods. Daily News. Are you going to reschedule the debate?"
"Charles, Annie Pierce, The Temple News. Does the shooting of your bodyguard mean that you'll be dropping out of the race?"
Erik scowled at the television screen in his hospital room as poor Charles was bombarded with these and similar questions the instant he stepped outside. Raven took the chair next to his bed, Alex leaning against the wall nearby, arms crossed.
"That's uncalled for," Raven muttered in response to that last question.
"It's like wolves," Alex observed quietly.
Erik silently agreed with them both, trying not to talk all that much. He'd lied a bit when the nurse asked if he needed the mask but he couldn't stand the look on Charles' face. Gut shots were painful as hell and took forever to heal, but Charles didn't need to know that; not at the moment.
On the screen, Scott, Jean and Angel shoved reporters and camera people back to give Charles some space, and he could see Charles nodding as Emma talked in his ear. He stepped forward, his face set in a carefully neutral expression.
He held up a hand and the voices died down, microphones and tape recorders held out for him to speak into.
"A few hours ago, there was an incident at the presidential debate," Charles began.
Erik nodded. Good; his voice was steady.
"I am uninjured. My bodyguard took the bullet meant for me but he is going to be fine." Charles took a breath. Keep it together, Erik thought. Charles continued, "As of this moment, I do not know who the shooter is, nor do I know if he was working for someone. The FBI has him in custody right now and I have every faith in their ability to get answers. Any further investigations I leave up to the police and the FBI.
"No, we are not rescheduling the debate as far as I know right now. If it comes up, my opponent and I will discuss it. I will not be dropping out of the race and I would not presume to judge the nation's opinions at the moment. Thank you. No questions, please." Charles turned and headed back inside, but Erik did notice that he'd answered some of the questions that had been shouted at him before he made his statement.
The reporters surged after him as Charles and Emma started back towards the doors, the agents trying to force the reporters to keep a respectful distance.
Erik had reached for the remote to shut the TV off when Alex threw out a hand. "Wait, what's that? Bottom left corner of the screen." Erik peered at it. Stupid television was dangling from the ceiling in the corner but—"Is that a car?" It looked like the hood of a car, but it was the emergency room entrance. And it was someone's personal camera, shaky.
Raven said quietly, questioningly, "Is it driving through the crowd?"
Alex lunged for a radio. "Scott! Scott, answer."
Erik turned the volume up on the television, trying to hear anything. Scott's voice crackled through the radio. "What, Alex? Tell Erik we're on our way back."
"No, Scotty, the car! The car in the crowd!"
The reporters had noticed and were starting to fall back. On the screen they could see the small group start to turn around, the camera holder realizing what was happening and turning to film it instead of calling an alarm. An open space was developing around the car. Erik sat up abruptly, breathing in sharply as his body protested the movement. Charles…
"Scotty, move!" Alex shouted into the radio at the same instant the car shot forward, scattering reporters.
In the corner of the screen, Erik saw Charles' head whip around. A shock of red hair blocked him from view. Someone screamed. Raven gasped, her hands over her mouth. Erik felt his mouth drop open as they lost the feed to static.
He flipped through channels, trying to find something, anything, that would tell him what was going on.
Charles' voice filled the room, echoing through the radio. "I'm okay. I'm inside, headed back up." Somehow, Scott knew they needed—he needed—to hear Charles' voice, to know he was okay.
Erik let his breath out in a rush of relief, a tension dropping out of his shoulders he hadn't known was there. He dropped his head back onto the pillow, a hand ghosting across his stomach bandages. "Oh thank god," he breathed. He stuck out his other hand and Alex dropped the radio into it. "Charles, you're sure?"
A little huff of a laugh came through. "Worrywart as ever, love. Yes, Erik, I'm sure and I'll see you in a minute."
The room fell silent for a moment after that—Erik hoping no one caught Charles' term of endearment, or at least wouldn't bring it up—until Raven said proudly, "He's okay. And he did good out there."
"Well," Erik corrected tiredly.
"What?"
"He did well." Crap, now he was correcting people's speech like Charles did.
"I'm glad you think so, because it was not fun," Charles said, entering the room. Raven immediately jumped up and hugged him. Their eyes met over her shoulder and Erik realized he should maybe make a decision. "I'm fine," Charles said reassuringly, his face only a little paler than before.
Erik still said, "I should've been there," trying not to sound petulant.
"You're injured," Jean said sympathetically. "And he is fine. We even got the plate for Mason to run."
Alex muttered, "It'll probably come back stolen, knowing our luck."
Angel smacked his arm. "Shut up and try to be positive for once."
Kids. He worked with kids, Erik thought, faintly amused.
Charles came over and sat on the edge of Erik's bed, playing with the fingers of Erik's right hand as he said, "I think we should order in tonight and watch a movie or something. Ray, what do you think?"
She lifted an eyebrow. "I don't think that's really up to me. It's up to your security, I think. Plus there's this thing called visiting hours."
"I'm a Presidential candidate. I'm exempt."
Erik said, "I think the boys are a bad influence on you, Charles."
"You mean me, don't you?" Alex said with a grin, making the group laugh.
Erik winced at the tug against the wound. He had to stop pulling at it. Charles caught the wince, his smile fading. "You all right, Erik?"
He nodded. "I've been shot before, Charles. I'll be up in no time." Charles had to think he would be fine, and soon. Charles had to keep his head in the game, not worry about him. He'd have to talk to Mason, get him to send someone to replace Erik as head of the detail while he recuperated. Maybe a bit of distance would do them some good, anyway.
Erik needed time to think, figure things out. Figure out what the best thing to do was: for him and for Charles, whether that turned out to be giving in to whatever was between them or remaining apart and keeping it professional.
"Go fish."
"Oh come on, you say that to me every time!" Alex frowned as he reached for the deck of cards on the bed.
Scott just chuckled and replied, "Maybe you should try asking someone else."
"I cannot believe I let you talk me into playing Go Fish, Charles," Erik said with a sigh. Instead of replying, Charles just tucked himself closer to Erik, a comforting warmth against his right side. Somehow Charles had also managed to maneuver things so that they were both lying on the bed, Erik's right arm around him. Things were moving too fast for him to get a handle on them. But there were times he wasn't all that sure he wanted to get a handle on them.
The room's phone rang and Jean answered it, talking quietly into it as Charles asked Alex for fives. He was handing them over when Jean announced, "He's here."
Erik glanced over at her as Charles queried, "Who's here?"
Erik nodded and tilted his head towards the door. "Let him in."
Jean stepped out into the hall. Charles turned to him. "Who's here, Erik?"
He had to find out sooner or later. "My replacement."
Charles straightened, looking at him with something akin to horror. That didn't make sense. "Your replacement?"
Scott and Alex slowly set their hands down and stepped away. Cowards, Erik thought, but there was no bite to the thought. Shifting a bit to get comfortable now that his right side was abruptly cold, he said, "I can't very well protect you from a hospital bed, Charles."
"So Alex and Scott can do it until you're better."
"It's not going to be a couple days, Charles. I won't be back on duty for a few weeks, at least."
Worry flashed across his face. "But you're okay."
Erik pressed his lips together. "Gut wounds take a while to heal fully. And then there's physical therapy. Just because it wasn't a really bad injury doesn't mean I'm not still going to need time to recover from it. And that means that you're one short on security and I am not leaving anything to chance with a week left. So, yes. When I gave Mason the plate to run, I asked him to send a replacement along, as well."
Charles frowned and somehow Erik just knew he was going to fight it. "What if I don't want a replacement?"
Erik sighed. Sometimes he hated being right. "I'm afraid that's not up to you." When did all of this become a negotiation?
"I don't like it." Charles crossed his arms.
"You don't have to like it. You just have to listen to him." When Charles' mouth set in a mulish line, Erik propped himself up onto his elbows so that he could look Charles in the eye, ignoring the burst of pain. "You will listen to him, Charles. He is here to keep you safe, just like me. Just like Scott and Alex."
The door opened and Jean walked in, followed by a tall, muscular man with a wild mane of hair and beard. He was also in jeans and a flannel shirt, a holstered gun on his belt.
Erik scowled. "Logan."
The man tapped two fingers against his forehead in a faux salute. "Hey, Lensherr."
"So you're my replacement."
"Seems like it." Logan's gaze flicked between Erik—still propped up on his elbows—to Charles, who was sitting on the bed next to him. "You gonn' do introductions?"
Erik fell back against the pillow, feeling a bit drained from that small movement. "Logan, Charles Xavier; your assignment. Charles, Logan Howlett; the Secret Service's very own lumberjack." Try as he might, he couldn't quite keep the disdain out of his voice.
Charles held out a hand, clearly reluctant. "Nice to meet you, Logan," he said, his voice polite.
Logan shook it vigorously. "You, too, bub." He glanced around the room. "Summers, times two, I see."
Erik asked, "You up to speed on what's been happening?"
Logan nodded, scratched his beard and said, "Mason briefed me. Let's go, then." He started towards the door.
Charles said, startled, "Excuse me?"
Logan turned around. "It's a weekday, yeah?" When Charles nodded, Logan continued, "Then I believe you're supposed to be workin', yeah? Let's go." Logan pulled the door open and Jean shot a look at Erik before stepping into the hall. Alex and Scott hesitated a moment longer before slowly following suit. "You, too, bub," Logan said, gesturing impatiently for Charles to come.
Charles bit his lip. "Can I have a moment alone with Erik before we leave?"
Logan lifted an eyebrow but stepped outside, shutting the door behind him without a word.
"Charles—" Erik began, fully prepared to argue further, but Charles cut him off with a bruising kiss.
He had no idea how long it lasted, Charles' lips pressed to his, Charles' fingers fisted tightly in the useless hospital gown, Erik's fingers wrapped in Charles' soft hair…eventually, though, Charles pulled back. They were both a little out of breath and flushed.
Charles said quietly, "I just…I wanted to make sure that you knew that I felt the same way."
Erik didn't know what to say. Knowing Charles had just as strong feelings for him that he did for Charles did not help his decision-making in the slightest. He reached up despite himself and gently brushed a lock of hair out of Charles' eyes, letting his fingers skim across the skin of his cheek as he did. Charles leaned into the gesture, his expression softening, eyes fluttering shut.
The door opened and Erik yanked his hand back, Charles' eyes flying open as well. Logan poked his head around the door. "Time's up."
Erik nodded, his eyes locked on Charles'. The door closed as Erik found his voice. "He'll take care of you, Charles."
"Not like you do, though." His voice was still quiet.
Damn it, Erik didn't want him to go. "His style is…different than mine, yes."
"You don't like him. Did something happen between you?" Charles continued to surprise him with his grasp of people.
"We just have very different views on how things should be done. That's all." That reminds me; I should talk to Logan before he heads out. "You'll be fine. Trust me."
"Always do." Charles leaned down, brushing their mouths together briefly. Then he slid off the bed and over to the door, turning back with his hand on the doorknob.
Erik felt like he should say something, something about their relationship or whatever it was. But all that came out was "Send Logan in for a second, would you?"
Charles looked disappointed but it was gone in a flash as he nodded, opening the door. Logan replaced him, stepping inside and crossing his arms. "What."
"There are some things you should know about Charles," Erik started.
"Like?" Logan asked archly.
Erik narrowed his eyes. This would go better if he wasn't laid up in a hospital bed. But then Logan wouldn't have needed to be here if Erik weren't in a hospital bed. Verdammt. "Like the fact that he's not your typical teacher or candidate. He's a gentle soul, doesn't take to violence well." Which is a direct result of his abusive childhood, but Logan didn't need to know that.
Logan took a step forward. "Look here, bub, I get that you been doin' this for a while now. You think ya know best, right? But the thing is, I'm in charge now. So unless you got actual advice for me, I'm gonn' cut you off here."
Erik gritted his teeth. Actual advice?! That was actual advice! In a flat voice, he said, "His parking lot has a blind spot. And anyone can get into the classrooms. His office is locked and he goes to a soup kitchen on Wednesdays." There was a lot more he wanted to say but it had to do with Charles' person, surprisingly. He toyed with the bracelet on his wrist, spinning the frayed edges between the pads of his fingers.
Logan nodded. "Alright. Get well soon, Lensherr."
The door slammed shut and Erik said softly, "Take care of Charles for me."