Chapter Text
“Go ahead, Charles. Tell them I'm wrong.” Erik's eyes remain focused on the water as he waits for Charles to reply, but his challenge is met with silence. He glances in Charles' direction just in time to see his legs give way, and Erik is there catching him and holding him close. “Charles, are you alright?” Charles' eyes roll back into his head and he mumbles almost imperceptibly, “count to three...count to three...” His eyes snap back and stare unnervingly into Erik's. “You have to stop it, you have to make it stop, you have to....it...” he trails off again and a single tear runs down his cheek. “Hurts,” he says simply.
“The coin,” Erik realizes, then, “I'm so sorry Charles, I never meant for this to happen, I didn't know--” Out of the corner of his eye he sees Moira moving towards them and he screams, “GET BACK!”
Everyone, Moira included, seems to migrate about 5 steps back, afraid of what might happen next. Satisfied, Erik returns his attention to Charles. He says his name over and over in between mumbled apologies and pleas to say something, anything, to no avail.
“Charles,” he whispers, wishing that he would just say Erik's name in that smug British accent that manages to say everything in a mere two syllables, that voice that tells him everything is alright because he knows everything about Erik and accepts and loves him for it. But the only response he gets is, “count to three, count to three...” and he knows he's ruined everything.
Killing Shaw will not bring you peace, my friend. Charles' words from the night before echo in his mind.
“No,” Erik says aloud, removing Shaw's helmet and tossing it aside, “it most certainly did not.”