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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[guideshapelead]

If anything, Charles feels cold, like someone's left a window open in the study he hasn't seen in weeks. But he's also an intelligent man - a graduate of Biology - and he understands the mechanisms of a fever just as well as Erik, or Hank. And so he grudgingly accepts what the other man is saying, and starts to remove his sweater.

[diecastking]

Erik waits patiently before taking the sweater and folding it over what he thinks of as Charles' chair. Not that Charles will be using it anymore - and that thought sends an odd chill through his body.

"Is there something you'd like to do?"

[guideshapelead]

"I thought you wanted Hank to examine me, again," Charles asks. It's not something he wants to happen, but since he sees it as an inevitability, he'd rather get it out of the way sooner rather than later.

[diecastking]

Erik curls his hand around Charles' shoulder. "I want many things, Charles. A great many things," he says cryptically and then goes to find Hank.

The boys are all sitting on the front porch, supposedly on watch, and they look up at his approach. Hank is openly hostile, but Alex is almost welcoming and Sean doesn't seem quite so afraid. He may yet earn their trust.

"I fear Charles has developed a pneumonia from his self-imposed exile. Would you-?"

Hank nods curtly and disappears back into the house. Erik motions the other two away and takes the watch himself, removing an illicit cigarette from his jacket pocket. What Charles doesn't know and all that.

[guideshapelead]

Charles manages a smile as Hank appears in the doorway of his study, and despite the shame he feels at being fussed over by the man who he still considers one of his children, he bears it all politely and stoically. It's not until he's left alone again, with orders to keep active but not to over-exert himself, and to cough up whatever he can, and with a promise of drugs to come, that he lets himself slump back down in his chair.

He feels ready for bed again, already.

[diecastking]

Hank returns shortly after - thankfully once Erik's cigarette is extinguished, ashes scattered - and gruffly confirms that Charles has pneumonia.

Erik fights down all the images that rise to his mind of friends and relatives labouring to breathe and nods curtly. Hank takes up sentry duty silently, freeing Erik to return to Charles and check on him.

"What did Hank say?" Erik says as he enters the study, maintaining the polite fiction that the whole mansion doesn't know their professor is sick to his bones.

[guideshapelead]

"Pneumonia," Charles doesn't see the point in lying.

"I'm not to go running anywhere." He laughs without humour.

[diecastking]

Erik winces and turns away for a moment, struggling for composure. The hollow defeat in Charles' voice threatens to break him but Charles doesn't need his pity.

"I should fetch those sandwiches," he mutters, hoping he didn't leave them near the radiator and hoping he can get out of the room before Charles notices the expression on his face.

[guideshapelead]

"Thank you," Charles remembers his manners, privately glad that Erik is removing himself from the conversation. He needs a moment longer to himself, as his own uselessness threatens to overwhelm him.

[diecastking]

Erik fetches the sandwiches quickly, taking the stairs two at a time. The exertion makes him dizzy and he scolds himself for letting himself go like this. Fighting fit at all times. A soldier. An assassin.

He presses the plate into Charles' hands wordlessly and then sits on the sofa. He can barely keep his head up but he needs to fight the exhaustion crawling through his veins. Only a few more hours before sleep.

[guideshapelead]

Taking a couple of the sandwiches, Charles offers it out to Erik.

"Do you want any?" He checks, sure that he doesn't have an appetite for more than a couple of triangles.

[diecastking]

Erik takes one, before nudging the plate back to Charles. "Tomorrow, I will find a grocery store."

[guideshapelead]

"Yes, I'm afraid I haven't had much of a chance to speak with Alex," Charles apologises. Leaving the plate on his lap, unable to reach any better place, he falls quiet as he eats his way through the first triangle. He feels unpleasantly full by then, but he still politely has the second as well.

"I feel tired," he admits, sounding ashamed by his own admission.

[diecastking]

Erik leans forward, frowning.

"It's to be expected, Charles. Your body has been through a lot in the past weeks."

He knows that Charles won't want to go back to bed, not so soon after that struggle to wash and dress, and he thinks he might have an answer.

"Will you...allow me to lift you?"

[guideshapelead]

"Where to?" Charles asks at once. It's not that he doesn't trust Erik to carry him, more that he doesn't want to have to be carried anywhere.

[diecastking]

Erik pats the sofa. "Just to here. You should lie down."

[guideshapelead]

"Alright," Charles nods his acceptance. He'd quite like to be back in his bed, but Hank's told him to try and keep himself up and about.

[diecastking]

Erik stays exactly where he is, drawing Charles towards him with his mind. He wonders idly if he should insist on Charles wearing a metal belt in case of emergency.

He stops the chair short of the sofa and settles himself against one high arm before flicking up the chair arm and reaching out to pull Charles across.

[guideshapelead]

Holding up his arms, the only help he can give, Charles closes his eyes and lets the lift happen. He doesn't like it, but he also knows there's no alternate option.

[diecastking]

Erik tugs Charles into his space, his back to Erik's chest, resting between his legs.

He finds a book on the coffee table, one he'd left there all those weeks ago and no one had thought to put away. "In the mood for Dumas?"

[guideshapelead]

"There's nothing wrong with my eyes, I can still read," Charles shoots out, rather snappily, before sighing and rubbing at the bridge of his nose.

"I am sorry. Please, continue." Settling himself against Erik's chest, he lets his eyes drift closed.

[diecastking]

Erik ignores the outburst and shifts to make himself comfortable, one hand holding the book and the other resting in the centre of Charles' chest, more for reassurance than protection.

He reads in a low murmur beside Charles' ear, calming his mind to encourage Charles to do the same.

[guideshapelead]

Aside from the near constant wheezing emanating from his chest, Charles remains quiet as he listens to Erik read, drifting further and further towards sleep despite his best intentions.

[diecastking]

Erik feels Charles heart beating beneath his hand, the slowing of his laboured breathing and smiles to himself.

He spots Sean hovering in the doorway with what appears to be a mug of tea and beckons him in with the book.

"Hank said he should drink plenty," Sean says quietly, shooting worried glances at his professor.

[guideshapelead]

"He has a name," Charles mutters, not quite asleep and hearing the conversation around him. Forcing his eyes back open, his heart close to breaks at the look of worry on Sean's face. This is why he didn't want the children seeing him like this.

"I'll be fine," he promises the boy, holding out his hands for the mug.