XMFC/Erik the slave driver

[guideshapelead]

Going to sleep with food and drink in his stomach for the first time in a while, Charles sleeps far more deeply than he ever has since coming home from hospital. It's gone midday when he comes to again, the sun high in the sky and bleeding through his thick bedroom curtains.

Despite the long sleep, the telepath still somehow manages to feel utterly drained. He supposes it would be too much to hope, to suddenly feel better the second he decides to pull himself together and sort his life out. Burying his face into his pillow, it's with great effort that he makes himself press his fingers to his temple and seek out Erik, to let him know that he's awake. He knows the easier option would be to keep quiet, but he's determined not to fall back into that.

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[diecastking]

Erik sits on the front porch step, leaning against the doorframe.

When he took over watch from Sean at some cursed pre-dawn hour, he had kept himself occupied by bending the wrought-iron perimeter fence into swirls at five hundred yards.

Now his brain can barely count to five hundred.

Running a hand over his face, he's suddenly aware of a strange pulling sensation at the corner of his mind - not unpleasant, but not entirely comfortable.

Erik closes his eyes and concentrates:

Charles?

[guideshapelead]

I'm awake.

Charles speaks directly into Erik's mind. He may be over himself enough to ask for help, but that help is only going to be asked of Erik for the time being. He's not having the boys helping him use the bathroom, or get dressed. They don't need to see him like that.

[diecastking]

Erik smiles to himself and gentle nudges Charles out of his mind to save his friend's strength.

He takes a detour via what they consider the children's sitting room, where Alex, Hank and Sean are playing a half-hearted game of cards.

"Charles is awake," he announces. "Someone needs to take watch."

Alex clambers to his feet and gives Erik a ridiculous salute before wordlessly heading for the door.

Erik shakes his head and heads upstairs, pushing open the door to Charles' room with a feral smile.

"Good morning."

[guideshapelead]

"Good morning," Charles yawns out a response, planting his palms against the mattress and heaving himself into a more upright position. The act leaves him a little breathless, but he supposes that should be expected after so long without any sort of physical activity.

[diecastking]

Erik resists the urge to run to Charles side and grasp his arms. Instead, he walks at a measured pace and rests a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Did you sleep?"

[guideshapelead]

"Like a baby, I assure you," Charles promises, resting his back against the wall and pushing the bedcovers down to his lap.

"Better than I have in a long while, in fact."

[diecastking]

Erik nudges the wheelchair into position with his hand, never leaving Charles side, hand steady against his plaid pyjama top.

Heat rises off Charles like a furnace and Erik frowns.

"Charles? Do you have a fever?"

[guideshapelead]

"I have felt better," Charles admits, though he's felt under the weather for so long now that in all honesty, he hasn't been overly concerned about how he feels this afternoon.

"I suppose I haven't been taking the best care of myself."

[diecastking]

Erik wraps his palm around Charles' forehead and frowns. "Hmm."

Erik shakes his head. "Then we'll take this slowly today. You're ready for a wash?"

[guideshapelead]

"What did you have in mind?" Charles dares to ask. He's not washed himself in over a week, and he's well aware that he's in need of a bath. He's just not sure he's happy with the idea of Erik standing over him while he's naked in the tub.

[diecastking]

Erik considers.

"That Victorian bath is hideous and cramped. A washbowl perhaps? And I will go downstairs to make the tea."

[guideshapelead]

"Fine," Charles nods tersely, not above embarrassment even if he is trying his hardest to let himself be helped.

"That'll do."

[diecastking]

Erik nods tersely and goes to find a washbowl. He knows Charles is unhappy with his situation and the lack of dignity, but Erik can think of nothing but efficiency.

And he cannot save his friend the embarassment that seems to leach from every pore.

So Erik merely gathers the water, a bar of soap and a flannel and rests them all on the nightstand.

"Do you need help...with your clothes?"

Perhaps Charles isn't the only one suffering a touch of embarassment.

[guideshapelead]

Charles wants to say 'no', wants to tell Erik to leave him alone and come back when he calls him. But he also knows that he does need help. He'd been shown things like how to dress and undress in the hospital, but he'd far from put his heart and soul into the tasks, and the lack of activity in the interim has left him weak and frail.

"Thank you," he nods, trying not to sound too frustrated.

[diecastking]

Erik perches on the edge of the bed, keeping his thoughts carefully neutral. He was detached, impersonal. He would not make this more difficult for Charles than it already was.

He folds back the bedclothes. "Top first?"

[guideshapelead]

His hands and arms are still fully functional, at least, and Charles is quick to unbutton his pyjama top. Leaning forward from where he's resting back against the wall, he manages to get the top off without too much of a wobble, managing to keep himself sat up straight.

[diecastking]

Erik resists the urge to support him, letting Charles work the top off in his own time. It would be a bizarre and ugly striptease were it not Charles doing the undressing - and Erik struggles to ignore how his mouth goes dry.

"Here." Erik takes the top and lays it on the chair, mind ticking over the best way to remove the pyjama bottoms from a fully-grown man without a blush stealing across his cheeks.

He takes up the woollen blanket from the end of the bed and places it across Charles lap.

Then he reaches for Charles' hips.

[guideshapelead]

Very purposefully not making eye contact with Erik, Charles bows his head and looks straight down at his lap as his pyjama bottoms are pulled from his hips. He can just about feel where the waistband touches his skin, but little below that, and he has to cling to the bedsheets to keep himself upright.

[diecastking]

Erik removed the pyjama bottoms without fuss or ceremony, placing them on the chair with the top.

He then shifts the nightstand closer, with all items within Charles' limited reach.

"You'll call, if you need me?" he says softly.

[guideshapelead]

"I will," Charles promises, looking up briefly before returning his gaze to his modestly covered lap. He's not going to do a thing until he's got some sort of privacy, even if Erik just goes and stands out in the hallway.

[diecastking]

"Then I will arrange breakfast."

Erik leaves without another word, stumbling down the stairs by muscle memory alone. His rumbling stomach tells him it's closer to lunch.

Also, the smell of burning meat.

Erik rescues the frying pan and finds some bread for sandwiches, losing himself in the monotony of the task.

[guideshapelead]

Left alone, Charles uses what Erik's left him to give himself an awkward wash, craving an actual bath. He pays the most attention to his arms, face and torso, unnerved beyond words by the way he doesn't feel a thing when he passes the washcloth over his legs. It's like he's washing somebody else, and he can barely stand it.

When the water goes cold in the bowl, Charles stops, putting the cloth back in the bowl and returning the blanket to his lap. Only then does he press two fingers to his temple, mind seeking out Erik's to let him know he's clean.

[diecastking]

Erik feels the brush of Charles' mind against his just as he finishes scolding Sean for burning the bacon. Sean receives one last frown before Erik collects the plate of spam sandwiches (who does the shopping in this house?) and returns upstairs.

He feels Charles' mind waver and frowns. Erik doesn't want to let on that he has no idea what he doing but he knows one of them has to be confident, for themselves and for the children.

"Explain to me," he says as he opens the door, "why we have twenty tins of spam."

[guideshapelead]

"I haven't been in charge of the shopping in a while," Charles points out, rearranging the blanket across his lap as Erik reappears.

"I'd assume Alex has taken control of that."

[diecastking]

Erik shakes his head.

"We need fresh bread. And vegetables, perhaps?"