Archive of Our Own ^beta

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He's in the hospital. He's dying, Charles was subconsciously stepping into his car, the very instrument that caused Erik to be in the hospital. He was hit by a drunk driver... Those little sons of bitches!  he swerved as he tried to avoid a student driver alone on the road. To his very surprise, she flicked him off and honked the horn. I didn't do anything, goddammit!  As he continued to drive to the Westchester Medical Center, he couldn't understand why he was going there. He heard Moira's voice in his head over and over: 'He crippled you! You do nothing but save his ass and what does he do? He turns around and puts a bullet in your back!'  But, he never really listened to Moira's rants, or had to for that matter, as being a CIA agent in Westchester is a little ways from where she has to be most of the time. Still-Charles was grateful for her presence.

"Uh... Hi... I'm here to see Erik Lehnsherr; I'm Charles Xavier." Charles' chest heaved up and down as he checked into the hospital. The receptionist looked down at a clipboard and sucked nervous air through her teeth.

"And of what relation are you to Mr. Lehnsherr?" she asked, and she seemed to be bracing herself for then worst. Charles paused. What was his relation to Erik? Of course, they were some sort of friends, but... Was he around enough to count as such? Granted,  Charles didn't try to contact him very much, and the actions were mutual for the other party. 

"Acquaintance." Charles said simply. The receptionist wrote down Charles Xavier next to Erik's name and motioned for Charles to lean forward. The heavy weight of silence before unfortunate news hung for a second.

"Mr. Xavier... Erik has amnesia." she whispered.

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"What?" Charles felt the world around him blur out as the words processed in his head. Amnesia. Erik, the person who never forgot, the man who held grudges forever, had lost his memory. He steadied himself on the front desk with his hand, the only sound he could hear was his own breathing and a faint inkling of voices. Wheelchairs and gurneys rattled on the linoleum floors in the hall, some vacant and some not. No thoughts passed through his head other than those of Erik. Amnesia. 

"He had extensive brain damage when the cars collided; we suspect his head hit the steering wheel then the window. A broken leg and wrist, as well. You can go see him now, if you'd like, but he hasn't kept memories that haven't occurred in his twenties." a doctor in a pristine coat and scrubs tapped Charles on the shoulder, jolting him from his thoughts. Shaken, he made his way to Erik's hospital room. He paused outside the door before entering. He crippled you... Took away your mobility... Your life... Moira's voice echoed in his head, but he opened the door and stepped inside.

"Erik?" Charles murmured as he sat down on a bedside stool. Erik jumped when he heard his voice. It made Charles feel horrible. Silence, terrible, empty silence filled the room like fog. The blank stare from Erik was the worst he'd ever received; no understanding and even fear began to show on his face as Charles continued to say nothing. Well, someone had to fill that void.

"How do you know my name?" Erik whispered apprehensively, coiled back and looking smaller than usual. If this hadn't been such a traumatizing situation, Charles might've stormed out of the room. However, he was not that type of person, nor was he going to scare Erik any further than he probably already had. But, how would he explain how he knew Erik? It'd be impossible to say they were friends, or family, or even just met on the street. The most recent person he remembers after the crash, Charles thought.

"I was the medic that wheeled you into the hospital. I was fired, though. I just wanted to see how my last save was doing." Charles' voice trembled and he was afraid he had given his cover away. Erik's eyebrows furrowed as he tried to remember, but he could not. Erik's eyes analyzed his face and shook his head.

"I don't remember you; I'm sorry." Erik murmured softly, but his presence seemed more open after Charles had said it. Frozen, Charles processed what Erik had just said: I'm sorry. Never in the history of apologies had Erik ever said that, and it made him shiver just thinking of how different Erik was going to be from then on. Maybe that's okay; he can have a fresh start. Maybe it'll be okay, Charles assured himself. But it didn't feel that way at all.

"How is he?" Moira asked as he came in the door. It had only been a few months since he had regained his mobility, and she still treated him like he was still in a wheelchair.

It was worse than being in one.

Moira gave him a quick one-armed hug and a quick peck as she used her other hand to ruffle through some papers in a case file on the table beside him. Her hand trailed off his shoulder as she read it. She doesn't really care anyway, Charles thought scornfully. Upstairs was quiet, and quite honestly, dusty. Charles sat down on his bed and looked at the walls. It had never really seemed like home to him. Not with Moira, anyway.

"Erik... Why did you have to get yourself in a car crash?" he whispered, the ragged and sore tone of his voice would cause even the most brutal man to feel pity. Memories, good and bad, of Erik swam around in his head. Chess, Havana, the submarine, even the first time he had ever seen Erik eat something caused painful headaches. Who knew that you would mourn an enemy so much... thought Charles. But was Erik an enemy anymore?

Chapter Text

"Mr. Xavier, I don't remember anything. I'm sorry; I wish I could be of more assistance." Erik said softly when Charles entered the room again. He had been visiting him three days consecutively, and he was set on repairing his memory. He felt odd that Erik was being so polite and courteous, but it was somewhat charming, in a way he couldn't put his finger on. The change was actually quite pleasant.

"I think I have a way of regaining your memories. Two, in fact. Or, you could just start over from scratch. I don't recommend that option, however." Charles sat down in his usual place with his notebook full of important dates, events and some not-so-important things, like his favorite song or color. To Charles, even those things were something he felt were a huge part of Erik. Silence was normal between them, mostly because they didn't have anything to talk about, as Erik technically didn't have a set personality yet.

"Has your neurologist told you about the state of your amnesia?" Charles had actually come to close terms with Erik's doctors and most of the nurses, his charismatic charm and polite concern for their patient was a delight compared to stressing family members. Lily, Erik's nurse, had even given Charles a copy of his medical records to compare to. Looking over the chart, he found that Erik was actually in excellent health, even without having doctor's appointments for anything in years. It was, in short, amazing.

"He said that it was inconclusive if I would ever obtain my memories again, but there was still a slim chance." Erik responded, fiddling with the bandage on his wrist in an annoyed fashion. Understanding where his restlessness was coming from, Charles decided it was best to try and say some little things that he had forgotten to try and trigger a flow.

"Do you mind if I say some little things from your past?" he asked. Charles never did anything without Erik's consent. It was mutually appreciated from Erik and the medical staff. Flipping to the first page, he began to read aloud. "Your favorite color was maroon, you had always wanted to be an army doctor when you were a child, you didn't go anywhere without a German Deutsche mark coin in your pocket..." he began to trail off due to some rising emotion. He rubbed his temples for a second and let out a small huff.

"Is something wrong?" Erik turned himself over as much as he could to reach over and gently shake his shoulder. There was so much Erik didn't know, about himself, about the person he had been and had wanted to be, and it made Charles feel like he was reading an obituary. An obituary for his best friend.

"Any better?" Moira was just about to get in a taxi to go back to Reston for a briefing. Charles had barely caught her. The beige travel bag was hanging off her shoulder and case files were stuffed to the brim with papers filled every nook and cranny.

"Yeah... He's slowly recovering. How long are you going to be in Virginia?" her trips back and forth were taking a toll on their relationship, and Charles wanted nothing more than to keep it afloat for both their sakes. It seemed like she was desperate to get out of the mansion and be on a case, and it hurt to think that she didn't really love him enough to try and bear through the renovations the old house needed and was getting.

"Maybe a few days? It won't be long, I'll be back before you know it. If it's longer, you can come down and visit or something. I'm sorry I'm so busy, but being an agent is a demanding job. I'm trying to get some vacation days, but... You know. I'll call you when I get to the airport." she kissed him gently on the cheek and stepped into the cab. As it drove away, Charles began to seriously rethink his importance.

Back inside, Charles wandered around the house and began to remember his fantasies he had had when he was a child. He had wanted to be a doctor or professor of some sort, which he had already achieved. He had always dreamed of being a master in genetic mutation, something he had also accomplished. The only thing left was having a family of sorts running about the mansion. Even as a child he had wanted to become a father, or father figure; protecting people was something he had naturally been gifted with. Connecting that to Moira, he couldn't see them even getting married. And to him, keeping a relationship for as long as they had without commitment didn't seem worth it.

Chapter Text

Another ordinary day in the life of Erik, the accountant at a law firm. It was odd how he had gotten the job; he hadn't really gone to school for accounting specifically, but since the business was failing, they accepted him literally off the street while looking for jobs. He wasn't half-bad, believe it or not. It was 6:45 in the morning, the sun was barely above the horizon and it was already spilling orange light onto the city below. Erik sat in his car, waiting for the crossing guard to let some kids pass, still half-asleep. Typically, he had never really been a morning person, or at least he didn't have a schedule in which he had to get up at that time every day. There was a screeching of tires as a truck barely made a turn around the curb. A beer hung out of the driver's left hand. A split-second later, the car collided with Erik's and his entire world went dark.

"Erik... Erik Lehnsherr, can you hear me?" a hand dressed in blue latex gloves snapped their fingers in his ear as another shined a flashlight in his eye. Who's Erik? It sounds familiar... he thought groggily. Nothing made sense: he was in a hospital, wrapped in casts in bandages, doctors were scrambling around him and yet not one person was telling him what was going on. When he opened his mouth to voice his concerns, a nurse gently pushed his jaw back up and put a finger to her lips. Buzzing and beeping pounded in his ears as he tried to make out why he was there. Pain erupted in his chest as he began to breath deeper.

"Your name is Erik Lehnsherr," a doctor said, pronouncing each syllable so comically it sounded like, "Yourrr name is Aiiir-ik Lehnnnssherrr."

"What happened to me?" Erik's speech was slurred significantly due to the anesthesia that had been injected for about every single thing the doctors had to do. He was able to extend his neck-not broken-enough to look at the rest of himself. At first he thought he was a purple and red-stained alien because of all the bruising and stitches on his body. When he tried to remember what landed him here, all that came up was blackness.

"You were hit by a drunk driver this morning." the nurse said, taking a small cloth and wiping some blood off his cheek. Fear raced into his veins as he tried to remember. Why couldn't he remember?  Racking his brain over and over, Erik overexerted himself and he passed out.

"Erik?" a man's voice with a lilting British accent spoke softly. Lights danced in his eyes as he opened them, his pupils constricting until they hurt. Erik turned to look at his visitor, and he felt sadness grip his heart as he received the glance that was directed at him. He knew me, Erik thought. Why don't I know him?

"How do you know my name?" he asked in a quiet tone. The man's shoulders drooped in disappointment. No... Don't, Erik said internally. Every second of silence that passed between them worsened the feeling of guilt in Erik. I want to remember, please, he pleaded. Nothing came to him.

"I was the medic who wheeled you to the hospital. I got fired, though. I just wanted to see how my last save was." the man's shaking voice and nervous flash in his eyes told Erik that he wasn't. He must've been a friend, Erik thought, And a good one at that. Looking at the man, he was dazed at how blue his eyes were, like a bright sky on a spring's day.

"I don't remember you; I'm sorry." he responded apologetically. Those bright blue eyes stared at him with such sadness that he had to look away. Out of the side of his eye, he saw the man shiver from some unknown chill. I need my memories back... Now. When the man left, the image of the stranger's eyes were burned into his brain.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" the man came in the very next day a few minutes after Erik's seemingly daily procedures. His heart beat began to drum inside his rib cage, threatening to deafen him. Why was it doing that? He didn't know this person. Hell, Erik had only met him yesterday. But he was still glad the man was back, with his blue eyes still searing on, but this time with determination and knowledge.

They were quite beautiful when they were like that.

"Of course, anything." Erik acted as politely as he could towards him, to the point where it was almost like he was flirting. Was he? Even Erik couldn't tell at that point. The visitor, whom Erik had decided to call The Man until he learned his name, pulled out a notebook full of majestic looping cursive, which Erik presumed to be his. The Man took a deep breath full of emotion and began to read his writing.

"Your name is Erik Magnus Lehnsherr. You're from Poland. You were captured by Nazis in 1944 and separated from your parents. You were discovered to have a genetic mutation that allows you to control metal, and Sebastian Shaw, under the name of Dr. Klaus Schmidt captured and experimented on you. In 1962 you traveled to Switzerland, in which you fiercely interrogated a Swiss banker about the whereabouts of Sebastian. You tried to exact revenge on Shaw when you located him on a small boat off the American coast, but were defeated by the cohorts of Shaw's Hellfire Club. I, Charles Xavier, Raven Darkholme and Moira McTaggert rescued you from the water, as we were posing as a fake U.S Coast Guard in an attempt to capture Shaw. That attempt failed. You came back with me when..." the door opened, interrupting the stream of information on Erik's past. Lily, his nurse, walked in and whispered something into Charles' ear. Reluctant but willing, Charles stepped into the hall with her. Erik strained to hear what they were saying.

"He isn't going to remember just from you telling him; it'll be like it's out of a history textbook. You might just want to let go of who he was, and focus on who he's going to be, alright?" Lily was very reassuring and pleasant with her words, though Erik could tell they stung Charles pretty significantly for other reasons. When Erik looked at Charles' back, for whatever reason, he noticed that even below his sweater and shirt that he had been crippled before. He stood with a crooked stance that made him seem like he was trying to hear something to his left. However subtle it was, Erik couldn't stop following the curve. Charles walked back in and sat down on the stool. Just for a second, he closed his eyes and appeared to be in another place. Disappointed with wherever he had been, Charles pocketed the notebook and walked out the door.

Charles came into the hospital room around 2:00 in the afternoon. He emanated polite classiness. It was enjoyable just to sit in the same room with him. As soon as he entered, he greeted Erik happily and set a German Deutsche mark coin on the bedside table. The gesture meant something, Erik knew, but he couldn't place it. Charles sat down on the stool beside his bed and sighed. The same mood that had been emitted on the first day of Erik's hospitalization threatened to spill over.

"Is something wrong, Charles?" Erik asked. Those blue eyes settled on Erik's green ones with a certain sadness.

"My girlfriend, Moira, she's been... Distant, lately. She's a government agent. Anyway, it's been kind of hard being so far away from her. I mean, Reston is more than a little ways from Westchester, and I want to keep our relationship afloat, but it's... It's hard. It really is. I'm just worried long distance is going to dissolve what we had." Charles explained. Erik was in awe of Charles' capacity for hardship. Even I would be able to treat Charles better than that, Erik though bitterly, surprising himself thoroughly.

"Well... If your relationship is strong, and you really love each other, then it should all work out in time. You just have to be patient." said Erik. Charles nodded subtly and shrugged. Something told Erik that he didn't believe him.

"Hey... Um... I was just wondering about what you told me yesterday... You said I have a genetic mutation?" Erik tried to dissipate the silence that too often fell between them. Charles inhaled and didn't seem to exhale for at least a couple seconds.

"A genetic mutation, such as yours, it... It gives you abilities that people without that gene don't contain and can't obtain without an injection or experimentation. Your magnetism allows you to control metal. You're actually able to control people as a result of all the iron and magnesium in their bodies. It made you an extremely dangerous person." Charles whispered. Confused as to why he was being so quiet and secretive, Erik processed all of this in his mind.

"Is it common?" he asked. Charles shook his head. How does he know about me then? he thought. Because I'm a mutant too, Charles' voice spoke in his head, spooking him greatly.

"What the hell?" Erik looked at Charles with wide eyes. Smirking-something Erik hadn't really seen Charles do since he'd met him-Charles cast an illusion of a blue-skinned woman with red hair walking into the room. Then, BAM. It all came rushing back. Memory upon memory of everything he'd ever done spilled into his brain: Shaw, Raven, Switzerland, the Nazis, his mother, Hanukkah, the Hell-fire Club, and Charles. Charles. The name that sounded sweeter than all others combined; the person who calmed all of Erik's worries and woes. Charles. But with Charles came Havana. That's how he got crippled: me, Erik realized painfully. I can't be that person again. I can't tell him I remember.

"Don't ever go into my mind like that again, okay? It's... It's bizarre!" Erik's voice trembled. Charles smiled and began to talk about the state of his amnesia.

Erik felt terrible.

Chapter Text

 Erik was finally released from the hospital, though everything he had broken was still in a cast, meaning he could barely breathe comfortably or lay on his side. Fortunately, Charles was gracious enough to let him stay with him until he recovered completely. He had even offered for him to move in for good.

Erik stayed behind Charles the whole time; he had to seem like he didn't know the place. Charles rambled on about the house as he lead him to his room. Memories flooded back into Erik's head: it was the place where they watched Kennedy's announcement for war on Russia during the Cuban Missile Crisis. He remembered other things too, like Sean falling out of the window, or looking outside, he saw the satellite. I want to tell him... But I can't... Erik thought. Charles laid down a blanket and a couple of pillows on the couch and set down the medication divider on the table in front of it.

"I have to take medication for broken limbs? I find that redundant." scoffed Erik, who never liked taking pills even when he had to. Charles rolled his eyes and motioned for Erik to follow him into another room he honestly didn't remember seeing. After a few seconds, Charles furrowed his eyebrows and led him out. Erik looked over at him confusedly but said nothing. However, this didn't happen again.

"Just in case you were worrying about it, I paid for your medical bill." Charles said suddenly.

"What? Charles, you didn't have to do that! It must have cost a fortune!" Erik exclaimed. Charles actually paid a medical bill for someone that, in his mind, didn't remember him? Granted, Erik probably didn't have the money for that sort of thing, but still. He then realized, again, that Charles was a once-in-a-lifetime friend.

"Are you planning on going back to your old job when you recover?" he asked. It was a good question. There were a few reasons why he shouldn't, and maybe one or two why he should. First off, that company was about to close, so it would be ridiculous to go back, plus the fact that he had no prior experience in accounting made it seem like a dead end. But, even so, it was the only job he could find at the time, it paid well, but... Charles. There was always that. He had tried to forget about Havana after it occurred, and soon began to drift apart from what he had had with Charles. The accident sent him back to the feelings of loss and wanting to obtain his friendship again. Actually... No. Now that he thought about it, Erik wanted something more than that. He wasn't sure what, but thinking of Charles as just a friend, or even a best friend was an understatement.

"No. It's about to go under." Erik replied after a few seconds. Nodding, Charles stood looking at the ground. Though most of his face was hidden, Erik could see that he was smiling. What's that all about? Erik thought.

"Moira should be here around 5:00. I'm not sure she's going to take this "you moving in for a month or two thing" well. But, honestly, who's she to judge? She's barely been here that long if you add up the accumulative amount of time she's stayed." Charles said brashly. The tone of voice surprised Erik; Charles wasn't the one to snarl about someone he loved. Unless he didn't love Moira anymore, he couldn't ever see Charles being like that. Unless... Erik thought against his will. Shaking his head to clear it, he tried to concentrate on what Charles was saying without hearing that word over and over.

Charles' POV

"You did what? Charles, you can't just invite someone to stay here for more than a few days without telling me! Especially him!" Moira yelled from upstairs. Her face was flushed red with irritation and anger.

"First off, he has amnesia; he doesn't remember! Second off, I don't remember you being here six and a half days out of the week!" Charles retorted back. He had had enough of Moira being gone and thinking she still had a say in most things. "And, in case you thought I didn't know, there aren't enough criminals in the world for you to be kept away from here for as long as you're gone. What else have you been doing?"

"I..." Moira was rendered speechless. No. Charles thought, She couldn't have been... There was only one way to settle this. Using his mutation of people he loved was painful, but he had to know. Memories of... Richmond? Why the hell has she been off-duty there? Then, his worst fears were confirmed. Date nights, flowers, love-struck laughter... Moira had been in an affair.

"You... You were cheating on me this entire time?" Charles whispered hoarsely. Moira had tears in her eyes as she turned away and walked out. An affair. He couldn't believe it. For almost a year, he had thought that Moira was a good person, a faithful girlfriend, and she had fooled him. Heartache and betrayal seeped into every crevice of his heart. This wasn't happening. It couldn't be happening. The pain was worse than being paralyzed, heavier than the weight of her absence, it hurt. This kind of agony was the second most awful heartbreaks he'd ever went through.