Break a Leg

November 1962 (2)

Charles puts up the Christmas tree on the first day it occurs to him that he can, now.

"But it's not even Thanksgiving yet," Raven protests. "Who starts decorating for Christmas before Thanksgiving?"

As Charles sets the ladder up, he tells her, "I'm trendsetting, just you wait."

He can practically hear her rolling her eyes as she wanders off.

It is, perhaps, inevitable that a section of the lights gets stuck in a branch Charles can't reach from his current position. So he leans over a little, then a little more, and a little more, and he's just about got it when the world goes a bit sideways -

The tree does not break his fall; rather the opposite. And when Charles hits the ground, he hears a peculiar popping sound, like one might get when stepping on a plastic Coca-Cola bottle, the kind that don't appear to be in production quite yet.

Charles realizes in a distant sort of way that he may have screamed, either aloud or not, when Erik comes rushing in, face draining completely of blood when he sees the position Charles is in.

"Can you -" he begins.

"Yes I can, thanks, and it bloody fucking hurts," Charles snaps.

Charles hates hospitals, having spent far too much time having pneumonia in them over the past few decades. Therefore, when Erik goes into a monosyllabic black sulk the second it's confirmed that Charles' leg is in fact broken, it seems like a completely unnecessary attitude to Charles.

So, the moment they're home and alone, he says, "Alright, Erik, out with it."

"...One week," Erik says.

"Oh, is that all it's been?" Charles says, trying to make light of it.

Erik is having none of that. "One week," he repeats.

"Well, Erik," Charles says, "I hadn't been up on a ladder in forty years. I'd rather forgotten how they work."

"...Gravity," Erik says, which is a point.

"Well, physics never has been my strong suit, has it?"

"You have a Ph.D. in physics," says Erik through gritted teeth.

"Actually, it's in biophysics," Charles corrects. "And I don't any more."

Erik just stares at him, incredulously; then walks out, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. Charles has a feeling he knows exactly what he's muttering about, and is grateful he didn't say it, because 'you could have broken your back, you could have broken your neck,' is not something he particularly wants to dwell on.

When Erik then proceeds to melt or smash every ladder on the premises depending on their composition, Charles considers that it to be a bit of an excessive overreaction on his part.

December 1962 (2)

"It itches," Charles says, though he's already informed Erik of this at least three other times since they've gone to bed.

"I can break the other one for you," Erik offers, having at no point during all this shown anything like sympathy towards Charles' plight (Charles is fully aware of why, of Erik's fears; but it still stings, a bit).

Charles lies there in the dark and tries to resist any more futile scratching at his cast.

That night, Charles dreams that there's a very large grape under his skin, moving down the back of his leg, and it hurts -

And he starts awake and it still hurts, and oh; he manages, somehow, to stumble out of bed, and thankfully the cramp releases the second he's standing, though it still leaves an awful ache behind.

"What's wrong?" Erik asks sharply.

"Nothing," Charles says. "So glad to hear that you care now."

"...What's wrong?" Erik says after a short pause; softly, this time.

"I had a cramp in my calf," Charles says, trying not to sound pathetic because really, he's happy, he really is happy to be able to feel his cramps; it's just that it's quite a bit easier to be philosophical about itching, cramping and stubbed toes after the fact. "It's gone now, so sorry to have woken you, you can commence to sleeping again now."

Erik sighs.

Once Charles is back in bed, he somehow ends up with his leg in Erik's lap, Erik kneading and massaging the hurt out of his calf. He's frowning, Charles knows, though he can't see his face in the dark, or feel anything from his mind.

"Your hands feel heavenly," Charles says, because they do, and feels that Erik's frown is slightly less frown-y upon this statement.

Just a minute or two later, Erik's hands start having an entirely different effect, and after thinking it over a moment, Charles says, "Erik, I have another itch, would you please scratch it?"

It's not a fantastic line, as lines go, ranking perhaps several notches up from 'you can fuck me' at best. But Charles has always been just a bit lazy, and his lines don't have to be good with Erik.

Erik chuckles, and Charles imagines the frown to be all gone now as one of Erik's hands start sliding up his leg, the other continuing to work on his calf. When Erik reaches Charles' knee, his hand pauses lightly on it, and he says, "...Tell me more, about my hands."

Charles does; and Erik's hand slides up and up and up.

And that's better. Though his other leg still itches.