Chapter Text
So go easy on me
I still love you baby
I'd still kill for you
I would kill for you
Tell me what do you need
Tell me who I should be
- "Kill For You" by Gigi Perez
Charles was falling.
Charles was falling and Erik couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
The jet was crumbling above them and Erik could feel the metal shearing apart, debris falling all around them. Erik whipped his head around but couldn’t tell who had made it out of the jet. He knew Sean and the Summers boys could probably break their own freefalls, but Hank, Raven, and little Jean might still be in the jet. With all his strength, Erik grasped at the metal of the jet, willing the plane to stay together, dammit.
With one hand focused on the jet, Erik whipped his head back to Charles, still in freefall. No one was coming to save them, and he hadn’t deployed his chute. The explosion on the jet must have knocked him unconscious. Erik looked down at the every approaching ground, Charles, and the jet. Erik’s mind came to the split-second conclusion that he had two options. He could maintain his hold on the jet (on his children), or he could use magnetic fields to break his and Charles’ fall. He did not have enough energy for both.
You know the answer, he heard Charles say in his head. You know what I would want you to do.
Erik desperately tried to pull on the metal fastenings on Charles’ flight suit, trying to slow his descent from the destroyed jet. It wasn’t enough, and Charles was still hurtling toward the ground. In a last ditch effort, Erik threw himself towards Charles in the air, feeling desperately for the magnetic fields around them. He can hear Charles’ voice in his head, the place between rage and serenity, Erik, but all Erik can feel now is fear. He sends a silent prayer that the children are safe.
The world slips away as Erik curls his body around his lover, and they hit the ground together.
Erik wakes with a start. He’s in the mansion’s medical wing, tucked under a layer of blankets on a cot. Exhausted, he runs a hand over his face. How long had he slept? The clock on the wall reads 2:37pm, but he doesn’t know what day it is.
He assesses his body. There’s an IV in his arm and a heart monitor strapped to his chest – every inch of his body aches, tender and bruised. He tries to shift to a sitting position but cries out when his ribs scream in pain. Okay, so no sitting up. He lets his head fall back against the pillow in defeat. His right hand scrabbles for the call button on the cot and he presses it insistently.
Where is Charles?
He can’t feel the telepath’s familiar warmth in his mind, and his stomach roils at the possibility that Charles is severely incapacitated…or worse. The door to his room opens, and his face falls when he sees Jean, not Charles. She looks exhausted, looking much more like a full-fledged adult than a thirteen year-old girl.
“Hey, Erik,” she starts softly. “How are you feeling?”
Erik snorts. “Like I fell out of a plane.” She smiles at that, a little sadly. “How – how are the others?” Erik asks with more urgency.
“Sean was able to catch me and Raven – Scott and Alex were both able to deploy their chutes, and Hank landed the wreckage okay.”
“And Charles?” Erik asks, almost pleading.
Jean places a hand over his. “Charles is alive.” Erik breathes a painful sigh of relief. “How is he?”
“Still unconscious. Banged up the same as you, but…” She trails off.
“What?” Erik insists. “Tell me, Jean.”
“He – “ Jean’s voice breaks, and she has to look away has her eyes fill with tears. “Hank says he might have another spinal injury.”
Erik feels like all the air has been punched out of him. “How bad?” He asks, his voice hoarse.
“It’s higher than the first one – in the thoracic region. He might need breathing assistance for the rest of his life.”
Erik can almost feel his world stop spinning.
Charles is hurt, again, because of him. Might have his mobility and independence irreparably changed, again , because of him. Before he can stop it, tears are falling hot and fast down his face, his hands coming up to try and hide his shame.
Jean catches one of his wrists. “Hey. You did everything you could. Hank said it’s just easier to reinjure the spine after one injury. You saved his life, Erik.”
“I – I’m sorry, Jean. I need to be alone.” He hates pushing her away, but he hates her seeing him like this even more.
She stands from the chair she’d pulled up to his bedside. “Of course. Can I get you anything?”
Erik shakes his head as more tears fall, his body shaking. “Just – tell me if he wakes up?”
Jeans gives him that sad smile again. “Of course, Erik. When he wakes up.”
Erik drifts in and out of consciousness, the concept of time slipping away from him as his body tries to heal. At one point, Hank comes in to update him on his own recovery. Erik had shielded Charles with his body as they hit the ground, resulting in massive internal bleeding, broken ribs, and sprains in pretty much every joint in his body. “You were able to slow yourself down from terminal velocity. It could have been much worse, Erik.”
Could it? Erik thinks miserably. “I need to see him, Hank.”
Hank shakes his head before adjusting Erik’s IV, sending more painkillers into his bloodstream. “Soon, Erik. You need to heal a bit more first.” Before he can protest, Erik loses consciousness again.
Charles wakes while he’s still on breath support, and his body flails instinctively against the intrusion.
“Shh, you’re okay, Charles.” A warm hand presses against his chest, rubbing soothingly. “The tube needs to stay in a little longer, okay? You hit the ground pretty hard.” Charles blinks his eyes several times, willing them to focus, before they settle on the figure beside his bed. Raven.
Charles is confused. Raven had gone to be with Erik, when had she come back home?
Why are you here? He asks telepathically.
Raven blinks in surprise. “You needed me,” she says simply. “Do you want me to leave?”
No! I’m sorry – I think I’m just confused. I know you don’t speaking like this, but I’m afraid my mouth is rather indisposed.
Raven chuckles a bit at that. “You know, I don’t think I mind so much anymore. You’re at the mansion – we went on a mission, and the jet was hit. Everyone’s okay, relatively speaking.” She pauses, then – “would you like Erik to come see you?”
Anger flares in him. Of course, Erik was here. The man had a knack for showing up only after Charles was hurt – or else he was doing the hurting himself. The details of the jet going down are fuzzy in Charles’ mind, but he wouldn’t be surprised if it was somehow related to Erik’s “activism”.
I never want to see that man again, Raven.
Raven startles at his words, but Charles assumes he’d let too much of his anger at the man bleed into his projection to Raven.
“Charles…”
I mean it, Raven. He’s hurt me enough. No more.
Raven’s mouth purses into a thin line, and she looks more hurt than Charles expected her to. “He was just trying to help, Charles.”
And look where that got us, Charles says bitterly.
Raven acquiesces. “Alright, Charles.” She stands to leave. “Anything you want me to tell Hank? Do you want Hank to come see you?”
I want to be alone, Charles thinks, his eyes becoming damp. Please, Raven.
Raven leaves the room, and Charles slips into sleep again.
“I’m sorry,” Raven raises her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m just the messenger.”
Erik crumples forward on his cot, covering his face with his hands. “I thought that we were past this. I thought…” I thought we agreed to forgive each other.
“Maybe he just needs some space and time,” Raven suggests, sitting on the edge of Erik's bed.
Erik laughs bitterly. “He sounded pretty sure, Mystique. I don't blame him. I have hurt him.” He stares down at his hands. Traitorous, weak hands. Even twenty years after paralyzing Charles in Cuba, he still distrusts these hands.
“Erik, you're the only reason he's still alive. Surely he'll come around.”
Erik shakes his head before burying it in his hands again. “I did it for the children. I – I had to pick. Keep the jet together or slow us down.”
Raven nods in understanding. “And you chose the jet.” She places one of her hands atop Erik's shoulder, deep in thought. “I think you should tell him yourself.”
“But he said –”
“I don't give a damn what he said,” Raven hisses. “He's going to give you at least five minutes of his time before throwing away what you've both worked so hard for the last two decades.” She stands. “Has Hank cleared you for wheelchair use?”
“Tomorrow. He said I should limit myself to 15 minutes sitting up at a time.”
“That's all the time we need. Tomorrow then. I'll come get you and we'll talk to Charles. See if we can get him to pull his head out of his ass.”
After she leaves the room, Erik weeps silently.