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Erik was used to injuries. At one time, they happened more than they do these days. When he and Charles were constantly fighting it out, he and his people against the X-Men. It was nothing new for him to be cut and banged up, blood on him, bones broken, black eyes, split lips.
These days, though, it’s nothing like that. The most he has to worry about now is a splinter, a board falling on his foot, or a cut from a piece of glass. Genosha is a lot safer than the wide world out there. Especially with his powers while building. He can get twice the work done as anyone else and not get near the injuries as the other men working.
That’s how he ends up surprised when he feels the pain in his hand and looks down to see the blood flowing. A simple slip of the hand against a sharp corner of plastic. This is the reason he resents the material with a passion.
Sighing, he floats himself down from the ladder, watching the blood, going for the first aid kit they keep around the build sites. It couldn’t be that bad, right?
He presses some gauze against it, as he gets some disinfectant to pour over it. As soon as the blood is out of the way and he can see the injury, he realizes that maybe he understated how bad his injury is. Maybe he’s going into shock or something.
He looks around at the other men, debating on what to do. Quickly, he wraps some bandages around it and hopes it’ll hold long enough as he stands up and takes a breath before announcing, “Carry on. I’ll return soon. You have the blueprints and I believe you’re capable of finishing this on your own.”
Erik walks away from the construction site, his right hand gripping the injured left as he makes his way back to his and Charles’ house. Right now, the only thing going through his mind is that Charles will know what to do.
It doesn’t make sense that this is affecting him so much when it didn’t use to. This was nothing compared to stitching up his own head. And yet, for some reason, he’s panicking now and doesn’t seem to know what to do.
He shoulders the door open and his eyes scan the small living space before pushing the back door open and finding Charles sitting on the small back deck, already looking up at him. Of course, he is, of course, he could feel Erik’s panic.
“What happened, love?” Charles asks, closing his book and putting it on the small table next to him.
Erik doesn’t say anything, moving his hand so Charles can see the blood soaking through the bandage. His eyes are fixed on Charles, almost unseeing.
Charles nods, as though picking up on Erik not talking and he kicks into action himself. “Okay, sit down, darling,” He replies, carefully guiding Erik onto his seat on the other side of the table. “I’ll go get the medi-kit and fix you right up, alright? Everything is going to be alright.” His voice is low, words are spoken carefully and slowly. It does wonders to calm him down.
He leaves and Erik is alone, looking around at their backyard, the small garden, the trees growing a little further out. He keeps his eyes off his hand carefully. It feels like the weight of the world is crushing down on him, each breath takes more effort than it should, a conscious decision he has to make with each breath.
It seems to take Charles years to return, but when he does, he’s right back in front of Erik, the kit on his lap. He takes Erik’s hand in his and gives it a squeeze. “It’s alright, dear, let me see,” He whispers and Erik holds his hand out.
Charles tsks softly, shaking his head. “Honestly, Erik, I don’t know how you do these things,” He says, softly as he unwraps the bandages, seeing the injury. “It’s going to be okay, though. I can take care of this for you,” He adds.
Erik watches as he cleans the cut once again and looks at it carefully. Somehow it doesn’t look so bad now that the hand is held in Charles’s own.
He places some clean gauze on it and then wraps another bandage over it, doing better than Erik had done earlier. He takes his time and covers the area thoroughly.
Once he’s finished, Charles quickly packs the kit back up and smiles at Erik, reaching for his uninjured hand, and wrapping it in his own. Gently he squeezes it.
“Everything’s okay, love,” He whispers, “Can you hear me?” Erik nods a little, his eyes finally locking on Charles.
“There you are, darling. What do you say we go in and we can lay down together?” He asks, reaching for the kit with his free hand to tuck it beside him on the chair. “Come over here, I’ll even give you a ride inside. You can get settled while I put this up.”
Erik moves, going a little slow. He should protest, he knows. He always does when Charles tries to get him onto his lap, even for a moment, but right now the words seem to be stuck in his throat. Instead, he just gives in and settles himself on Charles’s lap instead.
“Good, love,” Charles replies, pushing them into the house. He goes straight back to the bedroom and waits for Erik to get off.
He had barely noticed they were moving before they are in their room. He does as he was told though. That’s easy enough for now. Then Charles is gone, only to reappear seconds later.
Charles transfers onto the bed next to Erik and wraps his arms around him, holding him close.
For a while, Erik lies there in Charles’s arms. The weight and gentle pressure help him return to himself and wonder what has happened to him. In the back of his mind, he knows he told the other workers he’d be back, but right now, he can’t be bothered to think about that. Instead, he pushes himself closer to Charles, relaxing in his arms slowly.
Time passes, but Erik doesn’t know how long before he shifts around to look up at Charles. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened,” He mumbles softly. “I normally have things like this under control.”
“I have a theory,” Charles replies softly, pressing a kiss to his hair before raking his fingers through it.
Erik looks at him and nods once, “You can tell me, Liebling,” He whispers.
“Delayed stress reaction,” Charles replies. “It’s been seen that after long exposures to stress and trauma, our brains may become used to it, even long after that stimulus is gone. The reaction to those exposures don’t kick in until you feel safe and everything is okay,” Charles explains, “Your brain has realized now that you’re safe and can finally react to everything you’ve been through.”
Erik sighs, “Great, I have more of this to look forward to,” He replies and Charles smiles.
“Maybe you do, love, maybe not. Though it is possible, I’d dare say likely. It’ll be okay though. We’ll get through it together.”
“Together,” Erik whispers, smiling softly to himself. It sounds nice.