Note: I have an idea of where I’m going with this but no idea how I’m getting there 🙂

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Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

***

Erik was resting once again.

The doctor had removed the respirator  from his throat, Charles was thankful it was made of plastic, or the situation would have gone a lot worse, than the side rail of the bed being bent.  They made sure he had plenty of oxygen, checked the incision to make sure it was healing and no infections were settling in.

The doctor informed him, that Erik would need weeks to months of recovery.

His lungs were weak and would need to build back up to normal capacity.  He would need to be careful in the future of infections.  A simple chest cold could set him back in recovery.  At the moment simple movement would cause loss of breath, and he would need to take things slowly.

The chest muscles would take time to heal, and Erik would need help with sitting up until the muscles strengthened.

Charles had kept a straight face, taking in all the information and pulling more from the doctor’s mind.  What worried him was the fact, Erik had eight staples in his chest muscles, and about two feet of wire wrapped around his sternum.

This wasn’t going to end well, he could feel it.

He had asked when it was possible for him to take Erik home.  The doctor gave him a look, as if Charles was insane, though he was pretty sure he was.  He was told under no circumstances was Erik to leave the hospital for another five days, and would need care afterwards.  Again re-iterating everything he had already told Charles.  Adding in the history of conducting open heart surgery and the fact that Erik was alive was a miracle and not push his recovery.

Charles calmed him down by explaining he had a place quiet away from everything where Erik could recover, plus a doctor on staff.  It was only then the doctor agreed he could leave the hospital in five days.

What Charles didn’t mention was that his place was in New York, and they would be using a teleporter mutant to get home.  He figured it would be painful and uncomfortable for Erik but only a few short minutes compared to a plane ride.

And the way the news was going on about sanctions against Cuba he wasn’t even sure he would be able to get out of the country.  Considering he had no passport, documents or proof of who they were.

Last thing he wanted to do was alert the CIA to where they were.  He had a feeling the only reason he hadn’t had the ‘Men in Black’ in Erik’s hospital room was Azazael hadn’t told anyone where they were at, and was watching Moira.

A selfish part of him wanted to find a place in Cuba and hide Erik away from everything.  Including the rants Charles was going to hear from Raven, and Hank’s ‘I don’t approve stare’.

Erik was meant to be by his side, as he was meant to by his.

When he would even take a moment to think of the two of them separated dread filled him, not just for himself but for the world.

“When can I leave?”

It was still disconcerting to hear such a soft quiet tone from Erik.  The man was blunt, forceful, cold, serious, not quiet or weak.  Charles glanced at the bed, watching Erik watch him.  He hadn’t mentioned the fact Charles hadn’t let go of his hand, and the few times he had tried to pull it away, Erik had held tighter.

“A few more days.”  He shifted until he was leaning against the bed.  “They want to make sure you are more stable, and no infecitons.”

He took a few short breathes, struggling to cough.  Charles grabbed a small cup from the table … the second one they’ve had, he won’t mention what happened to the first after Erik woke up from a particular nasty nightmare … he helped him sit up and put some of the ice chips into his mouth.

“What is in my chest?”

Charles tried to bluff his way around it, but the mutant’s eyes narrowed, and the fifth pen ended up embedded into the wall.  Erik closed his eyes as pain shot through him, he gasped for air forcing Charles to shove the oxygen mask back onto his face.  <<Calm your mind.>>

<<I was shot you asshole.>>

Charles bit back the smirk, last thing he wanted to do was encourage Erik’s bad behavior.  He already knew it was going to be hell on earth, during his recovery.

<<Steady breathes.  Relax your chest.  Don’t tense.>>

<<I hate you so much.>>

But he followed Charles’ instructions, slowly calming down as he breathing regulated.  “I feel the metal Charles.”

“You have staples holding the muscles together, and a wire sealing up the bone.”

“I want them out.”

“They are holding your chest together!”  He would not back down on this.  He wasn’t the one who sat outside, watching as doctors worked to save his life.  “The staples can be removed in six weeks.  Hank can do the surgery.”  Charles ignored Erik’s snort.  “The wires … it would be best if you limited using your powers until you’re fully healed.”

“So if Hank is doing this surgery when do we go home? If I’m still welcome.”

Charles knew his expression softened at the word ‘home’.  He probably had a sappy look on his face, if Erik’s roll of the eyes was any indication.

“In five days Erik, we will go home.  Where you will do everything the doctor says.  You will not push your limits.  You will rest.  You will ask for help.  You will listen to me!”

Wakes up from nap just enough to post …

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

***

The metal vibrations alerted him that Erik was waking up.

He had been by his side for twenty-four hours, and only budged to find a shower and change, Azazael having popped in again with some clothes, necessities, and cash.  He in turn had sent a list of medical supplies that would be needed for Erik’s recovering and told him to give it to Hank to prep a room.

Charles stood, still holding Erik’s hand as he leaned over him.  “Erik I need you to calm your mind.  You’re safe.  Where ever you think you are, it’s an illusion.  Follow my voice.”  He felt the grip on his hand tighten.  “Come on Erik you can do this, I need you to stay calm … focus on my voice.”

He barely flinched when the pen on the chart embedded itself in the wall, as the metal clipboard began to crumble.

“Erik!”

Charles startled when he was pulled into Erik’s mind.

He looked around trying to gauge where he was, the rain was heaving down making it difficult to see.  He flipped the hair out of his eyes, and stared up at the iron gates and the hordes of people being shoved through it.

He heard a boy scream for his mother.

Watched as the metal gate began to bend to his will.

In a blink he was dry and in an office, startled to see Shaw looking the exact age as when they faced him down only a few days ago.   He studied the young boy, terrified of what was happening around him.

This was the moment.

The one that set Erik on his path, the one that would lead him to Charles  … to Cuba … to recovering from a gunshot wound.

A part of him was awed by Erik’s raw power as he destroyed the office and lab, inadvertently killing the German guards.

Watching Shaw put his arm around young Erik, laughing as he dropped the coin at his feet … made him wonder why he wanted to take Shaw alive.

The man was truly a monster.

The next scene made him heave, even if the scene before him was only in his head.  He logically knew what happened in the camps, read about the atrocities.  He had even seen glimpses of these moments in Erik when they first met and during their recruiting trip.

But to see it fully.

The experiments.

Torture.

‘What are you doing here?’

He turned to see Erik has he knows him standing in the corner, looking between his younger self being electrocuted and Charles.

‘You pulled me in, you need to wake up.’  He reached out to him, wanting to move him away from the scene.

‘I pulled you into one of my nightmares?’  Erik looked frustrated, as he ran a hand over his face.  ‘I am sorry for that, no one should see these.’

‘No one should have lived them.’  Charles whispered softly.

‘I don’t need your pity, Charles.’  The voice became stern.

He could feel the anger brewing. ‘Calm your mind Erik.  You’re causing damage outside …’

‘That’s why I asked for a room away from the others.’  He took a deep breath, hands clenching and unclenching by his side.

‘We’re not at the manor.’  He finally got close enough to touch, fingers softly caressing Erik’s arm.

‘Where the hell are we?!’

The scene changed in moments going from cold sterile operation room, to the beach in Cuba.  Erik looked around, then back at Charles to see him in the black and yellow uniform.

‘It’s beautiful when not being shot at.’

‘What do you remember?’  Charles asked, noticing that Erik was projecting his image without the helmet, not that it would work.  He was already in his head.

‘Shaw’s death.  Humans trying to kill us.  One succeeding.’

‘You’re not dead my friend.’  He reached out and laid a hand on his chest.  ‘You’ll recover I’ll be there each step of the way.’

‘I might as well be.’  He shrugged.  ‘You won’t forgive me for killing Shaw.’

‘I…’  Charles hesitated only for a moment.  ‘I am a pacifist by nature.  I don’t believe in violence. I believe that one day we can all live in this world together.’

‘Naïve idealism.’  Erik smiled at him. ‘But it’s what makes you … you.  I wouldn’t change that, but I do wish you would see that the world isn’t ready for it.’

‘Nor does it need another revolutionary.  It’s seen enough death and destruction.’  He pointed out in earnest.

‘Then we find ourselves at a standstill.’  He glanced out towards the water.  ‘Maybe you should just let me go.  Maybe I can finally find that peace that has eluded me all these years.’

‘I cannot survive this without you, my friend.’  Charles reached out and cupped his cheek, making Erik focus on him.  ‘We’re not a standstill, we’re at a cusp.  Neither of us is right nor wrong.  We’re better together.’

‘You teach, while I fight.’

‘The point I’m making Erik is we do it together.’  He ran a thumb across his cheek.  ‘It’s time to wake up.’

Charles blinked.

He looked down to see Erik’s eyes were open, staring up at him.  He smiled softly, running his thumb over his cheek.  “Welcome back.”