guideshapelead | XMFC/Hank's in trouble...

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XMFC/Hank's in trouble...

To both his annoyance and amusement, Charles has been watched like a hawk by Erik ever since the disastrous trial run of Cerebro. Recovered from the side-effects of the modified machine, Charles can appreciate his lover's concern, is even touched by it, but he honestly feels back to full health. He's got a lot of bruises, but besides that, he really can't complain.

Two nights after his experiment with Cerebro, Charles is lying in bed, head buried in a book. Whilst academia is no longer his life, he still tries hard to keep up to date with the latest genetics research and publications. Since he's barely been allowed out of bed, for the last two days, he's come a long way in catching up.

At the end of the chapter, Charles closes the book, sensing Erik's approach. It's late - past his lover's normal bedtime - and he has to admit to feeling more than a little tired himself. As he rolls to place the book on the bedside table, he's bothered by a momentary sensation of pins and needles throughout his whole body, but it's gone as quickly as it came. He's almost forgotten about it when the world goes black around him.

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Erik reaches the top of the stairs, worn around the edges. With Charles on bed rest, he's shouldered the running of the house.

Sean and Alex have decided the house needs to be ready for when the school opens and have started work on just about everything at once.

Scott has been more clingy than usual, upset over Daddy's illness, so Erik has found himself solely looking after the boy and giving him more of his time.

He's just finished setting the drawing room to rights from an explosion of building blocks ("They just ran away, Papa!") when he hears a thud from their bedroom.

Quickening his pace, Erik opens the door to find Charles shaking violently, gripped in another seizure. He freezes in the doorway, torn between running for Hank and tending Charles.

Charles' head slams into the headboard - and Erik is instantly at his side, cradling his head in his hands. It's the only thing he can do.

For a minute or so, Charles jerks uncontrollably, eyes rolled back and mouth open. Somewhere along the line, he manages to bite down on his tongue, hard enough to make it bleed.

However, this time, thankfully, he calms without the help of Hank's medicines, body slowing and then stilling altogether. Still unconscious, he sucks in deep breaths as he's finally able to breathe again.

Erik is alarmed at the sight of blood in Charles' mouth, gathering him in his arms and turning him onto his side to let it dribble out onto the pillow.

"Charles?" he says desperately.

For a while, Charles is still, his rasping breath loud in the quiet room. When he finally does jerk awake, there's no calming influence of Hank's drugs this time. He's confused, completely disoriented, thoughts and memories scrambled by the sudden activity in his brain.

He struggles to move, to get up, needs to be somewhere though he can't remember where.

Erik keeps hold of him, speaking urgently. "Charles! Lie still - you're not well. Listen to me!"

Charles can't think, can't concentrate. There's noise, but he doesn't realise it's speech. He wants to move, but he can't - he's being held, and anyway, his body's refusing to obey him.

There's a taste in his mouth, too, strange, unpleasant. He doesn't like it so he spits, whimpers. The blood doesn't even register.

Erik leans forward, kissing Charles' face, trying to make him understand that he's here for him.

He hates this, his beautiful intelligent lover reduced to a keening mess.

Eventually the fight leaves Charles, exhaustion winning out over his impulsive need to get away. Settling, he moans softly, aching all over. There's already a spectacular bruise blossoming over his temple, where he hit his head against the headboard.

Erik gently runs his fingers over the bruise, now terrified that Charles may have seriously injured his head.

Deciding that he has to leave him to fetch help, he places one last kiss on Charles' forehead before sprinting out of the door and down the corridor to Hank's room.

He bangs on the door and pushes it open. "Charles had a fit. I need you now."

And he's already racing back before Hank's even acknowledged him.

Erik's gone before the words even register, though when they do Hank comes running.

The Professor looks terrible to Hank's eyes as he examines him, pale and clammy with a bruised forehead, the eyes that watch him close to completely blank. His mind seems to have all but shut down, to compensate for the extreme activation that's just occurred.

Still, otherwise he seems alright. Bruised, but nothing broken. The bite to his tongue is minor.

"He'll live," he promises Erik when he's done checking Charles over.

"'He'll live?'"

Rage fills Erik, sweeping away his better sense, and before he knows what's happening, he has hold of Hank's pyjama top.

"Your machine did this to him. And now this is what it's going to be - forever? He can't live like this! This isn't living."

"He won't remember any of this," Hank tries to calm Erik, nervously pushing his glasses up his nose.

"It looks far worse than it actually is, I assure you."

Erik shakes him, consumed by his anger.

"He can't remember his own name! He doesn't know me. He's exhausted - how can he run a school like this?"

Erik snarls then lets him go, pushing Hank away from him.

"You've killed that dream. You've shot him more surely than I ever did on that beach."

"No..." The hurt is clear in Hank's voice. He knows better than Erik, knows that epilepsy can be treated and controlled relatively easily, but the accusations still cut deep. Regardless of how easy the seizures are to control, the point still stands that Charles' life will have to change.

And that is his fault.

"I can treat him," he offers. "This is my fault, you're right. And you're right that things won't be the same. But the dream's not dead. He can still do all of that."

Erik forces himself to let go of his anger. He can't know what's best for Charles with his mind full of rage. What he wouldn't give for some of Charles' serenity right now.

"Treat him how?"

"There are drugs he can take," Hank explains, trying to keep calm. He knows apologising won't do any good, right now. It won't change anything.

"They should keep his brain activity normal."

"Should? And if they don't?"

Erik is calmer now and he sits on the edge of their bed, settling his fingers in Charles' hair.

"Then we experiment until we find something that does." Hank sounds more confident than he feels, not wanting to let Erik down - let Charles down - any further than he already has.

Erik nods, watching Charles silently. They've overcome his paralysis, they've come together, and now this? He cannot accept they won't get through this and he wants to believe Hank's words.

"Thank you," he says tightly. "I'll watch him."

"I'll consider medication," Hank promises, starting to back from the room. "Call for me, if there's any problems."

He lingers a moment in the doorway. "I'm sorry," he finally apologises. Helpful or not, he needs to say it.

Erik meets Hank's eye and says steadily: "It's not your fault. I...I'm sorry."

Regardless of blame, Hank now knows that Cerebro has affected Charles' brain for good. The seizure the other day hadn't been a one off, after all. Still learning to cope with life in a wheelchair, Charles now has this to think about to.

And all because he'd modified Cerebro. He sure as hell feels to blame, regardless of Erik's words.

Face sad, he nods his acceptance of Erik's apology and beats a hasty retreat.

Erik watches the boy leave. He closes the door with his power and hastily changes for bed, throwing on his sweatpants and crawling into bed beside Charles.

He spoons up behind him, drawing him into his chest to keep him on his side during the night. "It's going to be fine."

"'rik?" The movement brings Charles back to consciousness. He's exhausted, and confused, but at least he's lucid again.

"I'm here," Erik says, kissing the side of Charles' neck. "Go back to sleep."

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