Chapter 9 –Taking risks part 2
If there wasn't so many people in the room, Charles would have been sorely tempted to stroke Erik's hair.
Words could not express how relieved he was that his friend was finally out of the prisons and now under his care at the mansion. There were moments within the last two days when he thought his mind was going to be completely unhinged with worry and fear but all of that seemed like a distant memory as he stood next to Erik's hospital bed. One of the doctors Charles had selected to oversee his recovery, ducked around the two of them because Erik had flatly refused to let the professor out of his sight. As a result they had to re-position the bed in the middle of the large room so that the medical personnel could have easy access and still allow Charles to maintain his spot next to the patient.
However currently, Charles was struggling to contain his laughter by gently resting his hand on the man's forehead as Erik smiled up at him like a complete buffoon. With concern the professor noted that the man's pupils were still the size of dinner plates.
'Hank old chap,' he looked across the room to where his colleague was updating one of the nurses, 'when will these painkillers wear off?'
McCoy looked up and winced because just then Erik had caught hold of Charles' little finger and was energetically swinging it to and fro like a jump rope.
'Any minute now,' he reassured everyone.
The Englishman hoped that Erik wouldn't remember much of this because Charles knew he would be mortified by such undignified behaviour. From their short time together, he recollected that Erik abhorred excessive displays of emotions but maybe someday they could look back and laugh at the way he had curled up like a toddler against Charles' chest on the drive home.
The professor sincerely hoped that everyone would blame such odd behaviour on the powerful drugs that Hank had administered. All things considered, the young man knew they were skating on thin ice and one wrong move could send this whole little scheme spiraling out of control. Surreptitiously he glanced around the room to see if anyone was looking at them peculiarly.
He wasn't at all surprise that Gerard was staring at them with a flat, contemplative expression.
Charles had been quite pleased when his lawyer had connected him to Mr. Gerard who ran one of the most successful Parole houses in the state. The professor had found the man to be quiet, focused, efficient and obviously dedicated in his mission as he put it "to ensure that his charges met the challenges of their parole'. This was all well and good when they were working in concert but ever since Charles insisted on moving Erik to the mansion he began to see the disadvantages of having someone who was so observant in the midst of their odd arrangement.
As if sensing the professor was looking at him, the officer emerged from the little corner that he had secreted himself so as to not be in the way of the flock of white coated medical persons.
He gripped the metal bars on the other side of the bed from Charles.
'Is he going to live?' Gerard commented dryly. He wasn't in the mood to be humored especially since his expertise had been over ruled by the smaller man opposite.
Erik beamed up at him as if greeting an old friend.
'Yes, no ill effects,' the younger man informed him warily, scrubbing at his eyes to try and erase his fatigue. 'The doctors will bring across some equipment to give him a CAT scan in the morning.'
'Xavier, I just want to repeat how unusual this situation is. Although I agree that he is going to receive much better medical care that I could ever hope to offer him at my building, I believe you are taking too much responsibility on yourself by sheltering him inside your own house. '
In his nervous state Charles tensed, believing that he heard a threat hidden in the man's lecture.
'Are you going to challenge this?'
'Hell no!' Gerard seemed genuinely shocked that Charles would even say suggest a thing. 'I am not challenging any one who is on a first name basis with the governor. First thing next morning I will bring some paperwork for you to sign.'
The professor looked down at Erik in an attempt to hide his relief.
'I am just saying that I have been doing this for the last fifteen years and I think the odds of Lehnsherr keeping to his parole conditions would have been much higher if he stayed with me.'
'No, stay with Charlie!' Erik muttered stubbornly, reaching out to clumsily grab on to the man's wrist as if his teacher would suddenly disappear if he were not careful.
Quickly the professor covered his friend's mouth with the palm of his hand, afraid in his semi-drugged state that he would say something that would jeopardise the situation.
'Must be nice to be wanted, I will try not to be offended,' Gerard commented in a more relaxed voice.
The officer raised an eyebrow as a high color stained the smaller man's cheekbones and Xavier looked away in embarrassment.
A niggling seed of doubt began to blossom in Gerard's mind.
'For instance,' the parole officer suddenly interjected. 'With my years of experience, I believe that this compilation among Lesshenr's personal items is a potential source of concern.'
The man handed over a familiar folder labeled S. Shaw.
Fortunately the officer missed the way the patient minutely stiffened in shock but Charles didn't. The tense pressure under the professor's hand was strong enough to set off a wave of intuition in Charles' mind and like a cascade of falling dominoes revealing a hidden pattern, he didn't even need to look in Erik's direction to know what he had to do next.
'I have been looking for that folder everywhere!' the younger man cried out. 'I must have left it at the prisons.'
Carefully he perched the folder on Erik's stomach and happily pretended to check the contents with his free hand.
'You have saved me weeks of work,' the Englishman lied cheerfully. 'Thank you.'
Gerard frowned and watched without really seeing as Xavier closed the folder and tucked it against the patient's side. He still couldn't shake the bad feeling he was getting about this whole situation but then again nothing about this parolee was following standard procedure. Maybe it was also because Lehnsherr had been convicted of financial mismanagement which was just a fancy way of saying he was a con artist, Gerard's least favourite type of parolee to manage. You never knew what they were thinking and you always had to be on the look out for the proverbial ace up the sleeve. As far as he was concerned, the professor was taking a dangerous risk.
'Why?'
Charles was busy nodding good night to the various medical staff as they began to move out the room, 'I beg your pardon?'
'Why are you doing this?' Gerard pressed curiously. 'You've only known the man for two weeks.'
It was Charles' turn to look surprised.
'A man, no…my student who tried to protect me, was beaten in front my eyes,' he snarled out in angry tones. 'Maybe I am not as accustom to you to violence but I can't walk away from something like that and I will certainly NOT entrust his safety to the system again!'
Everyone left in the room naturally froze in order to gawk at the two combatants as they stared down one another, mentally shuffling around previous concepts and coming up with new impressions of each other.
'Erik, please stop licking my hand!' Charles requested sternly.
Their patient, still under the influence of the narcotics, shook with silent laughter. Intended or not, it was enough to derail the conversation from heading down the path of a heated argument.
Hank coughed nervously to attract their attention, 'We're all set here Charles. The doctors will be checking vitals every four hours. Can I see you out Mr. Gerard?'
Suddenly the officer became aware of how unsteadily the professor was standing, the grayish tinge on his face adding to his general appearance of exhaustion.
'Xavier let us walk you to your room,' the older man offered. 'We can talk about this tomorrow. You look like you are ready to keel over.'
Charles shook his head and held out his saliva-free hand to shake those of the men before him. 'Thank you, but my staff will attend to me.'
Every eyeball swiveled to the side as the hulking form of Xavier's chauffeur/handy man emerged from the shadows, a pair of pajamas clutched in his left hand and a toothbrush in his right. The items looked ridiculously small in the man's larger hands. Everyone in the room eyed the man cautiously, everyone except Charles who seemed quite at home with his rough looking companion.
Within a few moments Hank had ushered everyone out the room and for the first time in two days, Charles let himself relax. He looked down at his hands as they gripped the metal bars of the bed and even though he couldn't see it, the Englishman could feel the fine tremors of exhaustion running up and down his arms.
The other man waved the pajamas in his face.
'Lehnsherr's here and he's safe,' he grumbled irritably 'You can get some sleep now.'
Tiredly, the professor reached for the toothbrush and fresh clothes, wondering if he would even make it to the attached bathroom in their make shift ward without falling flat on his face. It didn't matter though; all that mattered was that Erik was safe. Xavier was quite sure that he could contently fall asleep on the toilet if he couldn't make it to his room.
Charles leaned over and pressed down hard on the man's chest to get his attention. 'Erik, stay here with my friend. I am coming back. Be good!'
Curiously the patient studied Charles' companion as the taller man fiercely scowled down at him. 'Sorry, do I know you?'
The man removed the fat cigar he had been agitatedly chewing and pitched it with perfect precision into the waste basket.
'Nope,' he answered. 'But I am the guy who is going to break your back if you hurt Xavier.'
The patient blinked trying to process that idea through his disconnected brain.
'Pleased to meet you,' Erik replied politely, and the two shook hands even as the other man scoffed and straddled a nearby chair.
He folded his beefy arms over the back and the two men lapsed into a comfortable silence listening to the sounds of running water.
'How is he doing?' Charles asked the moment he opened the door.
'He's quieted down plenty, but fighting sleep hard,' the handy man reported uncomfortably, rising swiftly to his feet. He was never much good in a closed off, stuffy sick room. If not for the professor, he would have bolted hours ago.
Worriedly he watched as Charles more or less sleep walked right up to the bed and took a header off the bed rails.
'Just five minutes,' Charles promised in an exhausted whisper. In reply, Erik's right arm encircled the man's waist, anchoring him to his side.
The handyman fought with every instinct that demanded he snatch his employer away from this strange person who only a few hours ago was a guest of the New York penal system but he couldn't bring himself to do it. He just couldn't interfere not when he looked down at the two men sprawled more or less haphazardly on top each other in the narrow cot, who after so many hours of hard battle had finally found the peace they needed to fall asleep.