Chapter Text
“Charles?” Erik tried to ignore the pounding of his heart as he roamed the halls of the mansion, footsteps quick with a purpose. “Charles, where are you?” It was unlike the professor not to respond. It was even more unlike Erik to feel so unsettled, though his fear seemed to become not so irrational as soon as he finally received a quiet response. “Erik…?” Charles sounded… off, but Erik couldn’t yet determine how so. The latter balled his fists as he tried to locate the former. “Are you alright?” He questioned, trying to both get Charles to speak again, and to calm his own strange anxieties. “I’ve been far better.” Erik followed the sound of Charles' voice, feeling a jolt of… concern? Pain? Pity? - as he heard his friend laugh hollowly to himself, and the weak tone to his… bitter response. To be redundant, which Erik normally didn’t encourage, it was just… so unlike the man Erik knew.
Erik approached the door to Charles’ workplace, knocking quickly. “Can I come in?” He failed to disguise the worry in his voice. There was no reply this time. “Charles?” Still nothing. “Come on, Charles. I can’t imagine I’ve been enough of a prick yet to receive the silent treatment today.” He continued to be met with only silence. “Charles, if you don’t answer me, I’m coming in.” Erik took a deep breath, “One…” A pause, then a desperate mumble, “Come on… Come on.” He bit his cheek, “Two.” He put his hand on the doorknob, hesitant. “Three.” When once again the uneasy quiet seemed to surround him, Erik turned the knob. He felt resistance… It was locked. “I’m coming in, whether you like it or not, Xavier.” He inhaled, then stepped back, charging as hard as he could. The door slightly budged, but didn’t yield. He didn’t even feel the bruises that were sure to be forming, and he repeated the action, stumbling as the door finally broke open.
“Charles!” Erik felt like all the wind had been knocked out of him as his eyes fell upon the limp body of the man he respected and adored slumped onto his desk. He rushed towards Charles, his heart seeming to skip a beat as he assessed the situation, and noticed the large pool of blood on the workspace. Papers were stacked neatly on the upper shelf, excluding a one page note tucked under a bottle of an alcohol Erik couldn’t focus long enough to identify – scotch, maybe? – written in his lover’s handwriting, the pairing placed next to Charles as if it were deliberate. Not wanting to pursue that thought at the moment (or ever, really), Erik turned his attention back to Charles. “Charles…” No response. Erik shook Charles’ shoulders a little more roughly than he intended, and the other man shifted, blood smearing on the letter and the desk. “Charles-!” Erik knew calling for Charles was useless, and after he took a shaky breath, he lifted his lover into his arms. There was no resistance, only the young man limp as a ragdoll, as Erik used all of his energy to run out of the room, down the stairs, to the garage- “Hurry, hurry, he’s losing blood, you should have checked sooner, move-! Move-!” His mind was racing, screaming guilt, worry, panic- He set Charles down so, so carefully in the backseat of a convertible, trying not to look at the blood that stained both of their shirts. Erik started the car, and as he raced down the road towards the hospital (far over the speed limit, most likely), he tried to keep his mind blank, empty, anything to not think too much about what was happening.